


Amore a prima vista.

by Rogue1987



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Dancing, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gigi is a papa bear, Gigi's POV, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Iker's POV briefly, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Partying, Pining, Romantic Gestures, Secret Crush, Sleepwalking, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Italy defeated Spain, they have a party in their hotel bar. </p><p>Gigi drinks a little too much and receives a surprising phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Above the darkness rides the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> So as promised, I wrote another Gigi/Iker story. Mostly because there aren't enough of those stories out there. I don't know why, because they have such a beautiful connection. I adore their relationship and it's very easy to ship. 
> 
> This will probably be three chapters. I actually wanted to make it one, but it got too long and complicated for me to finish today. It was particularly hard to write something from Gigi's POV, mostly because I love the man, but I don't know him very well. I don't know much about him. So if any of this is incorrect, please tell me so I can fix it.  
> Tips are always welcome, also about his Italian teammates. I don't know them very well either, which is why this was such a challenge. 
> 
> I'm writing a lot about the older players, mostly because I love them a lot. De Rossi, Chiellini, Bonucci. I'm using their nicknames a lot. 
> 
> Dero- De Rossi  
> Chiello-Chiellini  
> Bonnie-Bonucci
> 
> The word Ciucciarelli, means Donkey. It's a nickname for Napoli, the club of Lorenzo Insigne.  
> Dai means- come on.  
> Pirla means silly. dumbass. Something like that. 
> 
> My Italian sucks, so if you have some more suggestions on how to improve, feel free to message me. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter. More will come soon. 
> 
> And I really love De Rossi and Chiellini like a lot, which is why I'm using them so much in this story.

_Saint Denis. June 27th._

 

 

 

''So did you call him yet?'' Chiellini asked curiously, interrupting Gigi's hazy, drunk induced musings.

Loud dance music he didn't know was blaring in his ears and his teammates were dancing all around him. Zaza and Insigne had definitely picked the music for the night, much to Gigi's dismay. They listened to the worst crap he'd ever heard since the foundation of the earth.

He preferred to listen to classical music, accompanied by a nice glass of red wine from Pirlo's vineyard. Although he did like some of the old bands like Queen or Bruce Springsteen. But this, this was _not_ music. It wasn't even close.  

It was pretty late, somewhere around one in the morning he guessed and he imagined that the bar personnel was getting pretty fed up with their lingering presence.

He knew he should probably order his teammates to go to bed seeing how they had a recovery training at eleven-thirty, but who was he to disturb their well earned party?

Well he was their _captain_ , that's who he was.

And he could definitely get them into bed in two seconds if he wanted to, seeing how they all listened to him and respected his opinion above everything else. But tonight he didn't want to be dull with them and give them yet another excuse to call him an _old_ man.

A comment they had been using rather frequently lately, whenever he tried to contain their enthusiasm a little bit. Luckily for him, most of his other teammates were _'old'_ as well.

Only the youngsters complained about him being boring but they were the obvious minority in the group.

Lorenzo had even called him _Grandpa_ once, a few days ago, earning himself a hard smack to the back of his head from De Rossi, who was quite sensitive to people mocking anyone for their age.

Not to mention that Dero had always been insanely protective of the people he cared about. 

Gigi glared at Dero, who was dancing with anyone who dared to go near him, claiming them whole, wrapping his strong arms around them as he moved his hips in perfect circular patterns. There was a fluency and an ease to it that he had always admired. 

Gigi smiled to himself when even Ciro got intimidated by Dero's wild dance moves and moved backward to dance with Lorenzo.

Dero shrugged his shoulders and kept on dancing all by himself, not caring about anything or anyone judging him for it.

Gigi knew that the fierce Roman truly missed Andrea Pirlo right about now, seeing how those two were two peas in a pot, despite being on rival teams for their entire careers.

Andrea and Dero were always up to mischief, sometimes with Nesta tagging along, making poor Gatusso's life an utter misery.

They corrected his grammar ( even when there was nothing wrong with it ), they hid under the bed for hours until he finally went to bed and then grabbed his ankle from beneath the bed frame, scaring the shit out of poor Rino. That had been Dero, who had pulled shit like that.

But somehow Rino always blamed Andrea for most of the pranks they pulled. He seemed to believe that Andrea was the mastermind and Dero the blunt instrument to execute his schemes.

Gigi was never sure whether that was true or not. He knew that Dero was smart enough to come up with schemes all on his own, but then again, Andrea did have a mean streak.  

When he thought back to them, he suddenly felt nostalgic and extremely _old_. Most of them were retired now, or playing in the States like Andrea.

Out of their original group, only Chiello and Dero were still here.

And when Gigi saw the blond Roman performing his superior dance moves he felt a twitch at his heart out of sheer gratitude for that fact.

He wasn't alone. Dero was his _friend_ and he guarded him like the ferocious lion that he was. During the entire year in the serie A they were sworn rivals.

They _should_ hate each other based on their background. But Gigi couldn't do it. He didn't have a hateful bone in his body. 

He couldn't hate Dero even if he tried his hardest.

He simply had too many warm  memories of the man from their time for the Azzuri.

For when they came together for the Azzuri, they were all close friends. All of them.

Even tiny Lorenzo Insigne was a part of them. Despite the fact that he was a _Ciucciarelli_.

He wanted his teammates to have their hard earned party for beating Spain. For getting their revenge after being humiliated in the final of 2012. Four years later, Gigi still couldn't believe that they were defeated with four goals to nothing.

That he had let _four_ goals into his sacred net. He was still embarrassed for that final. He had let his whole country down that day. 

That had been the worst feeling he'd ever experienced in his entire career.

When he felt the room spinning around him he clasped onto his head, groaning miserably.  
Fuck he was utterly, embarrassingly wasted.

He creased a dark eyebrow at his best friend, seeing not one but two Chiellini's in front of him. Always a good sign. ''What? Did I call _who_ yet?''

Chiello rolled his eyes at him. ''Iker _pirla_ , who else? I know you're dying to talk to him,''

Gigi sighed agitated. ''Chiello, let it go all right? I'm far too drunk to be calling _anyone_ right now,''

''Well no arguments there, but still, what do you have to lose if you invite him over?'' Chiello quipped as he took another sip of his champagne. Gigi cringed when the defender dragged another glass of champagne past his face and downed the content in nearly one sip.

''Please take that away from me, I might vomit from the smell. Don't let me have any more alcohol all right? Unless you want to carry me upstairs again,''

Chiello drank the last bit of his glass and grinned. ''Ha you wish superman. You're far too heavy for me to carry in my current condition.  
Besides, I've already done that way too many times in the past. I'm not especially in the mood to deal with your drunk ass today. But I can't help but notice that you have failed to answer my question: what is the worst that could happen if you invite him over?''

Gigi snorted unamused. ''He could say no. I mean, I would say no. Hell, anyone would. It's not exactly a tempting offer is it? Asking a man who just got send home to join you at your party where he's surrounded by the same men who were responsible for his country's demise,''

Chiello murmured something he couldn't understand due to the David Guetta music that made its way to his eardrums, surely ruining them fore good.

Gigi shook his head to indicate that he wasn't understanding him, so Chiello slipped down on the couch besides him, bumping his shoulder against Gigi's.

Gigi's IPhone buzzed and he fished it out of the back pocket of his jeans. It was a text from Iker.

It read, _'Sure, would love to go for lunch with you tomorrow. Two o'clock okay for you?'_

Gigi blinked twice and felt confounded by Iker's strange text. Lunch? He couldn't recall asking Iker out to lunch.

When he turned to his side and felt Chiello sliding even closer to him, trying to read off his screen the penny dropped. ''For fuck's sake Chiello! Did you steal my phone again! I did not ask Iker out to lunch tomorrow!''

From Chiello's wide smirk he could read the answer. His friend was fucking _guilty_.

Guilty of meddling into his life once again. ''All right fine! I did send him that text. I invited him to that little Italian restaurant around the corner. I know how much you both love Carbonara. We have training till one so you can go out to lunch afterward. Oh don't be mad at me,'' he pleaded when he saw Gigi's furious expression, ''I did what I had to do. What any good _friend_ would do. I can't handle you sulking around over him any longer. It's been _years_ man. You're even worse than poor Zaza over there,''

They gazed at Simone Zaza who was still on the phone with Alvaro Morata, trying to convince him to join them seeing how he was still part of their Juve group in their eyes.

But unsurprisingly, Morata had refused. Zaza however, wasn't known for giving up easily and kept on calling him, using his most seductive voice to persuade the young Spaniard.

When he finally stopped trying, Ciro snatched the phone out of his hands and dragged him onto the dance floor, where they were quickly ensnared into a way too intimate routine. Graziano Pelle was standing a few feet away from them, smirking mischievously at the two.

He took his phone out and started filming them, probably to post it on Instagram later. Pelle always did stupid shit when he was drunk.

Gigi locked eyes with Bonucci, who was standing nearby and gestured his head to Pelle. Bonnie understood what he was trying to say, luckily, and snatched the phone from Pelle's hands, deleting the video quickly.

Pelle got a bit angry at Bonnie, but he let it go when he saw the defenders dead stare burning a hole in his forehead.

The older players had an untouchable status in the eyes of the the youngsters and could get away with pretty much anything they wanted.  

Gigi knew that they could not afford any scandals right now, so deleting the video was the right thing to do. The team was doing so well and had been practically drama free. Gigi intended to keep it like that.   

He turned back to Chiello, as he tried to remember what they were talking about.

''I do not sulk!'' Gigi protested weakly, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He knew that he truly  _was_ sulking. 

He did that every time after they had ran into Iker.  

Chiello was alway right, about everything. 

Somehow, saying goodbye to Iker had always been incredibly hard on him. It always managed to make him feel miserable. When he saw Iker standing in the tunnel before the match it always managed to brighten his day.

They hugged each other, laughed, shared a joke or two, a kiss to the cheek and when the game was over they embraced again, longer this time. More intense.

Gigi used to cling to Iker for dear life, invading is personal space mostly because he knew that he could. That Iker would never stop him.

When they went their own separate ways afterward, it always hit Gigi hard. He found himself missing Iker instantly and used to complain to Chiello's face until he got tired of him and handed him over to Bonnuci or Andrea.

Or sometimes to Dero when Chiello had decided that he needed some tough, straightforward love.

Something about Iker moved mountains inside of Gigi's heart. Gigi had always had the feeling that Iker was the only person on the planet who could truly _understand_ him. More than even his own family ever could.

Despite the fact that they didn't even speak the same language. They had a _connection_.

Whenever they were together, Gigi felt whole. Respected. Cared for.

Being a goalkeeper was the loneliest job in the world. Gigi loved and despised the day he had decided that he was going to be a goalie. It had been the worst and best years of his life. Goalkeepers had a certain responsibility that none of the other field players would ever truly understand.

How could they? Whenever he made a mistake it would cost them a goal. If Morata made a mistake and missed the target, he could try again. Goalies didn't get any do overs.

Being a goalkeeper  _and_ a captain was another matter entirely. It meant that you were not only responsible for keeping your goal clean, but also for keeping your teammates happy and to keep the group together.

It was a hard task on him at first. But due to some help from his best friends Chiello and Bonnie, he succeeded in being both. In bearing the double burden that came with his profession.

The weight that came with the armband.

He had had a great career over all. He had won lots of prices, made some true friends along the way, traveled to the most amazing countries and he was adored by many people.

But he was getting old now. Not even goalies could live forever. If it were up to him, he would wear the Azzuri shirt forever, but he couldn't be selfish.

Being a captain meant that you sacrificed your own needs for your team. It was time to retire from the national team and let Sirigu take over.

Just like it was time for Iker to hand the torch to the next in line. Gigi rationally _knew_ that, but his heart ached a little bit when he had to see Iker warm the bench.

The man had endured enough crap for one lifetime.

Gigi had been enraged when he heard that De Gea would play in the Euros instead of Iker. Yes he knew that Iker was getting older and that De Gea was an amazing goalie, but Iker was their captain!

How could Del Bosque dismiss his chosen leader like that? He could have at least let Iker play against Croatia, or sub him in when they had the lead in the game against Turkey. Iker had deserved better.

Gigi had texted Iker a lot these past few weeks, trying to soothe his disappointment, trying to boost his ego a little bit, but he knew in his heart that he had failed to do so.

When Gigi had met Ramos in the tunnel, it had been... _odd_. Iker had always been beside him when they walked onto the pitch together. He had been next to him when they stood at the coin toss.

Now Sergio Ramos, the cheerful, wild child from Camas, had been there with him. A man who Gigi liked and respected a lot, but it wasn't even close to the same feeling.

In that strange moment when he had held Ramos, he realized that he had never felt more alone.

Nothing about the embrace was right. The arms were too strong around his waist, too covered in tattoos to be Iker's. The body was too broad in his arms, the hands were too tight, the voice was too light and chipper. The skin was too dark and warm to be Iker's.

He even found himself missing Iker's deep, serious voice.

It made him nauseous with memories of when Iker used to be plastered into his arms. Slender armed, cold, pale cheeks and strong willed.

He always used to whisper, _''I'm going to beat you,''_ in Gigi's ears before he released him, which Gigi always followed with a cheeky wink. Telling him nonverbally that he shouldn't count on that to happen.

After today's game Gigi couldn't help but to seek out Iker, knowing how distraught he was going to be over this loss.

And still, a part of him was grateful that it hadn't been Iker in the goal today.

That he hadn't beaten him personally. Gigi wouldn't think he would have ever forgiven himself for it if they had ruined Iker's last match for his country. Luckily they hadn't beaten _him_.

They had beaten De Gea. That made him feel a little less guilty for sending Iker off into retirement in such a manner.

He knew that he shouldn't feel bad.

They had won this fair and square. He was insanely proud of their victory.

Proud of their _team_ effort. Which was the main reason as to why they had beaten Spain.

They were a team, Spain was like loose sand on the beach. There was no unity. The divide between the Barca and Real side had been too great.  

And yet, the realization that this would be the last time he would see Iker on the pitch was all that he could think of.

This was their _goodbye_. One final embrace and then it would be over. For good.

When the referee blew the whistle for the end of the game, his teammates had erupted into a tidal wave of screams, emotions and happiness. Little did they know that Gigi only had eyes for one person.

That he only wanted to hold one man at the moment.

He felt so many conflicting emotions that he was afraid they were going to swallow him whole.

Gigi was glad for beating Spain, truly. It had felt so good to get even for the humiliation Spain had made them endure four years ago.

Everyone was around him, shouting in his ears, celebrating, cheering, hugging him. It felt amazing. Gigi automatically felt himself shouting, cheering and celebrating the win.

For a moment he felt completely at peace, as the love from his teammates and the fans warmed his heart. Dero bumped into him like a ram that hit the wall, but the solidness of his embrace soothed him. 

For a few minutes he only felt pure happiness eroding in his system.

But all of those emotions quickly stopped dead in their tracks when his eyes landed on Iker.

Beautiful, kind, too good for this world, Iker. Gigi's heart shattered when he saw the heartbroken look in Iker's hazelnut eyes.

He had to go over to him, right now. But he was being halted along the way, by Chiello. Who else would have the _balls_  to stop him? Dero probably, but he knew that it wasn't up to him to do so.

If it had been anyone else, Gigi might have thought that the intrusion had been accidental, but knowing how clever Chiello had always been, Gigi knew that this was far from a coincidence.

 _''Dai,_ not now, wait a little while. Going to him this quickly will raise some serious eyebrows,'' Chiello had whispered in his ears. Gigi cursed between his lips. Sometimes he really hated his friend's brainpan. Chiello had always been too smart for his own good.

''I have to go to him, he _needs_ me,'' Gigi protested faintly. He saw Morata making his way over to him, Iker following slowly in pursuit. Nearly hesitant.

As if he was dreading their final time on the pitch as much as Gigi was. 

Chiello released him with a stern look in his brown eyes. ''Your choice then, but don't come crying to me when the media talks afterward,''  
''I won't,'' Gigi ensured him, but from Chiello's disbelieving eyes he could tell that the retort had been futile.

Iker and Morata were upon him almost simultaneously. Gigi smiled at Iker, who replied with a small smirk. ''Congrats Gigi, you deserve it,'' the Spaniard mumbled.

Gigi felt his arm rest on Iker's shoulder, almost like a reflex. ''I'm sorry man, I really am. I didn't want it to end like that,''

Morata was choking back a sob on his left side and Gigi extended his other arm to wrap it around the kid's waist.

He knew that Morata was mostly upset because he couldn't go back to Juve. Gigi had known how happy the kid had been in Turin and he hated to see him go.

Gigi brought his hand to his lips and brought it to Iker's soft hair, before he tugged him into a tight embrace, using his other arm to usher Morata into it as well. His fingers slid through the brown strands of Iker's hair easily and he could feel the goalie turning calmer in his arms. 

He felt a tear land on his shoulder, probably Morata's and stroked his back soothingly. ''Shhh it's okay Alvarito. We will meet again hm? You are not getting rid of me so easily, I promise you that,''

''I know that, but I'm just going to miss you guys a lot,'' Morata replied in Italian.

''We will miss you as well. You are still our little wizard,'' Gigi assured him. Morata wiped his eyes and took off, leaving Iker alone with Gigi.

''I guess this is it then,'' Iker sighed, as he pulled Gigi into another embrace, burying his head into his shoulder. Gigi felt his eyes fall shut instantly, enjoying the sensation of having the right man into his arms once again.

''I can't believe this is it,'' he heard himself choke out. Iker groaned thickly and patted Gigi's back. ''Me neither,''  
''I don't even know what to say right now,'' Gigi sighed.

Iker pulled back and cradled Gigi's face. ''I do: I'm _proud_ of us Gigi,''

Gigi felt his heart swell up three sizes and kissed Iker's cheek. He was too dumbfounded to reply. ''We'll talk soon okay, I'll text you,'' Iker said and with those words he was off.

The rest of the night had been a bit blurry to Gigi, seeing how the champagne had flowed freely.

He couldn't even remember what they had eaten for dinner.

And now he was sitting here in a hotel bar, with Chiello telling him he was sulking. Chiello, who had stolen his phone to ask Iker out on a lunch date.

Gigi wasn't sure if he wanted to kill him or reward him for his meddling.  
Chiello was staring at him expectantly. ''So are you going on that date tomorrow?''

''It's _not_ a date! We're only going for lunch!'' Gigi snapped.  
''Yes, in a romantic Italian restaurant. Which I booked for you two. It's a date,''

''God I hate you,'' Gigi complained.  
''No you love me,''

''Not today,''  
''Especially today, seeing how I saved your ass multiple times during the game, not to mention that I scored the first goal,''

''Fine, fine, maybe I do love you,'' Gigi conceded. ''I know that,'' Chiello retorted dryly.

Dero stumbled over to them and dropped himself inelegantly onto Gigi's lap, probably aiming for the free space to his right, but missing terribly.

His weight made Gigi gasp. 

 _''GIGI!!!''_ he shouted in his ears, nearly deafening him. ''Not so _loud_ Dero!''

''Sorry, but why aren't you having a good time?'' the Roman midfielder asked as he placed his head onto Gigi's chest, not bothering to remove himself from his lap.

''Who says I'm not having a good time?''  
''I do,'' Dero deadpanned, ''and Bonnie, Ciro and Barza,''

''You should all mind your _own_ business then. Besides, I think you have had enough to drink for today. All of you. It's getting very late. Going back to your rooms might be a good plan. The staff is getting anxious to close the bar,'' he said with a nod to the waiters who were giving them furious looks.

''Oh don't be so fucking dull! Christ I miss Andrea, he was always in for a laugh. Maybe I'll call him,'' Dero rambled, his blue eyes twinkling expectantly.

''Don't forget about the time difference!'' Chiello reminded him.

''Si, I won't,'' Dero dragged himself off Gigi's body and stumbled to the elevators, phone in his hand.

Gigi stood up and moved to the stereo, turning the power button off, silencing the lobby. ''Okay guys, I think we should go upstairs. The bar has been closed for hours and we have training tomorrow. Let's get some rest,''

He got some complaints from the youngsters, _naturally_ , but the older players seemed to agree with the suggestion and convinced the younger ones to go up with them. When the lobby had finally emptied except for him and Chiello, his phone rang. Iker's picture and number appeared on the screen.

''Jesus is he _still_ awake?'' Chiello asked surprised. ''He usually never sleeps after a loss,'' Gigi told him. He could relate to that, seeing how he lost a lot of sleep after they lost a game as well. 

He unlocked the screen and answered the call. ''Hola Iker, are you all right?''

Gigi knew that it was a stupid question, because of course Iker wasn't okay, he had just been kicked out of the tournament by his team. Iker wouldn't be all right for a while after this.

But he _had_ to ask. He had to know. Iker always asked him the same question if their roles were reversed.

Iker coughed soft. He sounded completely devastated. ''Yes I'm all right, I was just calling because you hadn't replied to my text. I wanted to see if we were still on for lunch tomorrow,''

''Oh yes we are. Sorry that I forgot to answer. It's been a bit _hectic_ over here,'' Gigi apologized.  
Iker snorted harshly. ''I bet. You must have had a big party,''

''We did yes, but I just put the kids to bed. Me and Chiello are alone in the lobby now,''  
He heard Iker clenching his jaw. ''Do you uh-''

''What is it Iker? What do you want to ask me?'' Chiello was making wild hand gestures to his left, that could indicate everything or nothing at the same time.  
Gigi decided to ignore him.

Iker sighed loud and Gigi could basically see his blush. ''Do you mind if I come over for a little bit? I know it's very late but I really need to talk to someone who understands _this_ , and me. And well I feel like you're the only one who get's it, you know,''

A little part of Gigi wanted to ask him if he couldn't go cry on Sergio's shoulder, seeing how the younger Spaniard had always been in love with Iker, but he held his tongue. Jealousy wasn't a very good color on him. He knew that.

''Of course, I'll wait for you in the lobby, we can have a drink,'' he saw Chiello shaking his head furiously, ''or you can have one, I probably had enough to drink,''

''Okay, grazie! I'll be there in ten minutes,'' Iker said. His voice already sounded a little lighter. A little more hopeful.

''Adios,'' Gigi smirked and he ended the call, placing his phone back into his pocket.

Chiello's jaw had dropped to the floor and Gigi could tell he was in for a bit of a lecture. ''Don't Chiello, not today okay? Per favore!''

Chiello bit back his comment and pulled Gigi into a tight embrace, surprising his goalie completely with the gesture. ''Just promise me that you'll be straight with him for once. Talk to him about how you really feel toward him. I want to see you happy my friend. Think about what you want for a change, instead of putting everyone's needs before your own. They are great qualities in a captain, but they have held you back in your personal life. Just talk to him and when you're done, come to my room and tell me what happened okay?''

Gigi clenched onto his best friend as tight as he could. ''What would I do without you?''

''Crash and burn I guess,'' Chiello grinned. ''Good luck Gigi,''

He kissed his captain's cheek and left him alone.

Gigi ordered a bucket load of water to try to get sober as quickly as he could for his conversation with Iker.

This was going to be interesting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC... 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me know what you think. <3


	2. I love you. I've loved you all along.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iker arrives in the hotel bar where he and Gigi have a nice chat. 
> 
> Until they are interrupted by a sleepwalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to thank everyone for leaving me kudos and notes on this story. This wouldn't exist without your support. I'm eternally grateful for it. Especially because this is such a small ship. 
> 
> I added some Spanish words in this story, such as Vale, that means okay in Spanish. 
> 
> I also wanted to give Florenzi a little more love due to his amazing save against Germany. I hope you guys like this chapter, there will be more on the way soon. All errors are mine.  
> Florenzi's nickname will be Flo.

_June 28th,_

 

 

 

It took Iker exactly _twelve_ minutes to get from his hotel to Gigi's hotel lobby.

When he walked in, wearing a pair of dark jeans, simple gray loafers and a black shirt, Gigi instantly noticed the dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he had been crying not too long ago.

The paleness that resided on his cheeks told him that Iker was extremely tired, but wouldn't be sleep all night even if he wanted to.

Gigi had paid a friendly, young, dark haired waiter two hundred euros to keep the bar open for another hour.

The kid had smiled at him, clearly in awe of his famous presence and had announced that he would happily stay open for a little while longer if it made him happy.

Sometimes it could be useful to be loved in pretty much all corners of the world, he thought grimly, as he took another sip of his seltzer water.

Iker stalked forward slowly, as if he was afraid that Gigi might evaporate in front of him and lowered himself onto a barstool beside him, patting his shoulder briefly. ''Grazie for doing this my friend, I didn't know who else to turn to,'' Iker told him, a tiny smile lingering on his lips.

''Of course, I uh-saved you a seat as you can see,'' Gigi said awkwardly.

He cringed internally and cursed himself for his stupid words. He had _saved_ him a seat? The bar had been fucking empty!

God he needed to stop being so ridiculous. His nerves were getting the better of him already and Iker had only been close to him for two seconds. That wasn't a good sign. 

Iker looked around at the empty bar and huffed. ''Yes I can see that,'' luckily, his voice wasn't unfriendly. For the first time that night Gigi even thought that he saw a sincere smile twinkling in Iker's brown eyes.

But it disappeared so quickly that he could have imagined its existence.

Gigi shifted on his seat, clearing his throat several times, hoping to mask his increasing anxiety.

What the hell was wrong with him? He had known Iker for over a decade and now he suddenly grew nervous around him? 

''So what would you like to drink?'' Gigi asked, deciding that it was better to avert the subject away from his idiocy.

Iker sighed and grabbed the menu from the bar, scanning the drinks slowly. ''Hmm I'll take a Scotch on the rocks with a twist,'' he told the waiter.

''What kind of Scotch would you like mister Casillas?'' the boy gleamed.  
''I don't care, whatever you feel like pouring,''

The boy was briefly taken aback by Iker's unkind words but quickly recovered and smiled knowingly. ''All right, as you wish,'' he took a bottle of Johnny Walker from the top cabinet and poured Iker a glass, filling it up with three ice-cubes and a slice of lemon.

''Make it a double,'' Iker ordered when the kid wanted to hand him the glass.

''Are you sure that's a good idea Iker?'' Gigi intervened. The Spanish goalie gave him a furious gaze, reminding him of Dero when he got mad. Gigi had to clench his jaw not to look away. ''What are you? My _mom_? A double son, come on. I'll even tip you extra,''

The boy turned to Gigi for help. Gigi shrugged and nodded at him, telling him to just give Iker whatever he wanted.

Today wasn't the time to argue with Iker, who could be as stubborn as a mule, Gigi knew that.

But he had smelled the alcohol creeping through Iker's pores as he walked in and he was certain that the waiter had as well, which was why he was so hesitant to get Iker even drunker.

''Merci,'' Gigi told the boy, ''could you give us a moment? We'll call you if we need you,''

The kid placed a golden bell toward them. ''Of course mister Buffon. Please press on the bell if you need anything else, I will come back,''

Gigi took out his wallet and gave the boy another fifty euros. ''For your trouble,'' he whispered into his ear. The boy smiled from ear to ear and blushed like a child that got a reward from his parents. ''Merci monsieur,''

Iker brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip, hissing a bit at the bitterness of the alcohol burning in his throat. ''I'm sorry, but I don't think that I'm going to be good company tonight,''

Gigi placed his hand on Iker's forearm and squeezed it lightly. The skin was cold, as it always was.

The familiarity of it comforted him. ''Don't worry about it, I wouldn't be either if our roles would be reversed,''

''Hm I'm not so sure about that, you are usually much more graceful after a loss. I wish I could be more like you,''

Gigi felt awfully flattered due to that comment but he doubted if it was true. Yes he _pretended_ to be a gracious loser, and yes he always congratulated the opposing team, no matter how bad he was feeling.

Even if they lost to Napoli or Roma, which hurt more than he could say, he could still keep a stoic face and shake their hands, smiling at them as he congratulated them. But that didn't come easily to him.

It had taken skill, dedication and years of practice. He saw it as his duty as a captain, to always take loss gracefully and to always remember that fair play was one of the ground rules of football.

When Ireland had beaten them a few days ago, he had also gone to the manager and players to congratulate them, to have a laugh and to shake their hands.

He knew that not everyone in his team or in Italy liked that about him at first, but over the years it became his signature move and somehow he had gotten away with it.

''Well trust me, that doesn't come easily to me. Not at all actually. Having a gracious loser face took _years_ of practice and dedication,'' Gigi admitted.

Iker grinned as he placed the glass to his lips, taking two sips, but not enjoying it much, for he choked. Gigi's hand still hadn't left Iker's forearm and the Spaniard made no attempts to remove it, which Gigi took as a good sign.

''So how is your team doing?'' Gigi asked after a long, but not uncomfortable silence.

Iker shrugged helplessly. ''Well they're upset, clearly. Although _some_ more than others. Sergio's a wreck, just as I expected him to be.  
He blames himself a lot. He always had confidence issues. Which sounds absurd when you look at him, but trust me, he's far more self conscious and insecure than anyone might think. Especially about being captain and replacing me. Not only at Real but also with La Roja. It hasn't been easy on him. And I can't do anything for him.  
Morata is a freaking mess, but mostly about saying goodbye to you guys I think.  
Koke and Juanfran are really struggling, because they have had a tough year and this only added to their misery. So yes it's quite difficult to be around them. I had to get out of there frankly. I know it's selfish but they were driving me _insane_. I was sharing a room with Sergio but he kept on crying and complaining, so I slipped a mild sleeping pill into his vodka. He's out cold,''

Gigi's blue eyes widened. ''You did what? Saint Iker actually gave his best friend a sleeping pill?''

Iker smirked like a child who had stolen some candy. ''So what? I used to do that all the time. They are not addictive or dangerous to him trust me I checked. But you know that Sergio _never_ stops talking and whenever we roomed together he would be up for hours and I never got much rest, due to his stupid Flamenco music, his loud character etcetera. So I slipped him a little pill, making sure I got some sleep that night. It was a homeopathic pill, don't worry,''

Gigi stared at him. ''My my, I don't know whether to be impressed or be frightened of you right now,''  
''I'm sure that you can do both,'' Iker chuckled diabolically.

When Gigi wanted to reply, he saw a small figure stumbling into the bar, wearing a blue pajama and slippers on his feet. He knew who it was without really looking closely. There was only one person on the team who sleepwalked.

''Excuse me for a moment,'' Gigi said to Iker and he left his barstool. He walked to his teammate and halted in front of his face. He snapped his fingers together in front of Flo's eyes. ''Flo! Hey, I need you to snap out of it okay! You're sleepwalking again!''

A pair of brown doe eyes stared at him as if he were a ghost. He knew that Florenzi wasn't awake yet. But he needed him to wake up as soon as possible.

He wasn't even certain how Flo had escaped his babysitter, Sirigu, but somehow he had managed to slip past the goalie. Flo always had a roommate, someone who was charged with keeping an eye on him.

They usually put a cat bell around his ankle, so that if Flo moved to the door, the high pitched sound would wake whoever was watching him.

That had been Dero's _original_ , but highly effective solution to the problem.

But clearly, Siri had been too drunk to do his job properly tonight. Gigi couldn't say that he blamed him for that. It wasn't the first time that Flo had escaped his babysitter and wound up in the lobby of the hotel, or worse: on the street.

Luckily that had only happened one time, but ever since that night they warned the staff of whichever hotel they were staying in to keep the lookout for the Roman midfielder.

If they saw him wandering around they were to call a member of the staff immediately, to prevent accidents.

 _''Flo!_ Wake up now kiddo! Come on!'' he ordered, raising his voice as much as he could. He shrugged Flo's lifeless body from left to right.

Still no response. On to drastic measures then. He took a deep breath and slapped Flo across his cheek with his open palm. Not too hard, seeing how he hated hurting people, but just a little sting to wake him. Luckily it worked.

Flo finally truly opened his eyes and gasped.

Flo should really feel grateful that Dero wasn't the one who'd found him, for he always slapped him a lot harder.

''Ow!'' Flo complained as he blinked his eyes at his captain. ''Gigi? What happened?''

Gigi wrapped his arms around the midfielder to steady him. ''You were sleepwalking _again_ , so you left me with little choice unfortunately,''

''Oh crap, did I embarrass myself again?'' Flo asked, blushing nervously.

''No you didn't. Let me take you back to your room all right,''

''Hey is that Iker? What is he doing here?'' Flo asked curiously as he stared at the other goalie from behind Gigi's waist.  
''He needed to talk,''

''I'm going to say hello,'' Flo announced and he untangled himself from Gigi's arms like the slippery little eel that he was and walked to Iker. ''No! Flo! Get back here!'' Gigi hissed, but the midfielder pretended not to hear him.

''Hey Iker, so lovely to see you again. Are you doing...okay?'' Flo asked, rather boldly and devoid of any tact.

Iker raised a dark eyebrow at him and snorted sarcastic. ''Peachy, I've _never_ been happier,''

Gigi stepped behind Flo and tugged him backward. ''Come on, I'll take you back to your room. Excuse me for a moment Iker, I'll be right back,''

''Hey I didn't mean any offense to you Iker, and I can walk myself back to my room, thank you very much!'' Flo objected.

Gigi rose up to his full stature and folded his arms in his sides as he allowed a furious expression to wash over his features. ''Alessandro Florenzi, you are coming with me right _now_ or I'm calling Dero back down here to drag you to your room, by your ears! And you know he will do that with much pleasure. _Now march!''_

Flo paled visibly and Gigi saw him turning to Iker for support, but Iker merely looked semi amused and semi impressed with Gigi's anger.  
''All right, I'll go. Jeez no need to get all worked up like that,'' Flo snorted.

''Did you bring your room key with you?'' Gigi asked, knowing that the question was rather pointless.

When Flo was sleepwalking, he left his room without brining anything with him. Gigi should just feel relieved he was wearing slippers for once. Usually he would be walking around barefooted.

Flo searched the pockets of his pajama and shook his head. ''Nope, no key,''

''All right, we'll go to the front desk and get a spare one. I'll be right back Iker. Don't go anywhere,'' Gigi said as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Iker's forehead.

''I won't,'' Iker assured him with a sly grin. ''Buena notte Florenzi,'' he added with a wink to Flo, who waved back at Iker.

The sleepy receptionist gave them a spare keycard and Gigi dragged his arms around Flo, hauling him toward the elevators.

''Which floor were you on again?'' he asked. ''Uh I think it was the eight,'' Flo retorted, but he sounded scattered as always and Gigi wasn't sure if he could trust his words.

So he stared at the keycard, it read 'room 812' so the eight floor was probably correct.

''Hey Gigi?'' Flo asked when they stepped into the elevator. ''Yes Flo?''

''Can you take me to my room on your back?''

Gigi burst out into laughter, nearly doubling over as the tears rolled down his cheeks. This was so _typically_ Flo.

The young Roman always asked questions you never saw coming. He had expected questions about Iker, questions about the upcoming game against Germany, hell even questions about life in general, but this, he never saw coming. Flo was always so deliciously original and inventive.

''God you're adorable,'' Gigi laughed. Flo creased his eyebrows, clearly confused. ''Why?''  
''You wanna have a piggyback ride on my back?''

''Yes, what's so weird about that?'' Flo quipped.

''Um pretty much _everything_ , it's normal to do it on the pitch after a goal, but not off it. I don't know it's just a typical _'Flo'_ like request. Only you would ask me something like this,''

The Roman shrugged callously. ''My father never took me for a piggyback ride and you're so tall, so I figured...but it's okay if you don't want to,''  
Gigi frowned confounded. ''Why didn't your father take you out for piggyback rides?''

Flo swallowed thickly. ''He was always working. Never had time for me I guess,''  
Gigi stroked his back soothingly. ''I'm really sorry to hear that,''

''It's all right, it's been a long time ago,''  
''Don't worry, I'll take you for a piggyback ride,'' Gigi said as he wrapped his arm around Flo's body, pulling him closer for support.

The brown eyes practically gleamed up at him, expectant and bright. _''Really?'''_

''Of course,'' Gigi vowed. This seemed like such a small favor, giving a boy something his own father had never bothered to give him.

Besides, he could never say no to Flo's puppy dog eyes. He had always been an enabler.

Flo buried his head deeper into his shoulder, when the elevator finally peeped, indicating their arrival on the eight floor. Gigi dragged his teammate out of it and kneeled down in front of him. ''Well get on then,''

Flo was so stunned that he gasped, jaw dangling open for a minute before he finally reacted and stumbled onto Gigi's back, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck.  
''Careful Flo, I still need to breathe, remember? Even mules need oxygen,''

Flo eased the hold onto his neck quickly and mumbled an apology into his ear.

As Gigi started moving toward room 812, he could sense the joy radiating of Flo's system. The boy was practically giggling and making all kinds of childish sounds, making Gigi almost feel bad that they had arrived at the door so quickly.

Perhaps he should have done an extra lap, just to amuse Flo.

But before he could suggest that, Flo tabbed his shoulder. ''Thanks man, that was fucking _brilliant_. You can let me down now. I can't believe how high up you actually are. You're like a giant,''

Gigi grinned. ''You're welcome, now let's get you inside,'' he slid the keycard through the lock and opened the door. As he had expected, they found Sirigu in a deep slumber on his own bed, face buried into his pillow. Gigi decided not to wake him. That would be cruel. 

He dumped Flo onto his own bed and tied the cat bell around his left ankle, before placing the blanket over his sleepy friend. ''Night Flo,''

''What no bedtime story?'' Flo joked.

Gigi rolled his eyes and stroked Flo's forehead lightly. ''Shut up. Go to sleep you big toddler,''  
''Hm yes boss,'' Flo closed his eyes and Gigi could tell that he was succumbed into a deep sleep before he had even left the room.

When Gigi had finally made his way back to the hotel bar, he saw that Iker was laying with his head in his arms onto the bar.

Gigi wondered if he was sleeping or crying.  
A part of him was merely relieved that Iker was still there, somehow he had feared that the goalie might had taken off on him.

He sat down beside Iker and placed his arm around his shoulder, feeling the skin tremble under his touch.

''So did you put your drunk baby down?'' Iker grumbled, sounding exhausted and borderline sarcastic. ''Yes, my sweet Roman  _baby_ is sound asleep and hopefully will sleep through the night now, although I forgot to give him his pacifier so who knows,''

Iker grinned at him. ''Good,''  
''So do you wanna talk about anything or-''

''Actually, do you mind if we save the heart to heart for lunch tomorrow? When I'm slightly more sober and more in the mood to talk,'' Iker pleaded.  
''Of course, whatever you want,''

Iker inhaled deep and locked his eyes with Gigi. ''Do you mean that? Truly?''

Gigi swallowed thickly as he traced his thumb over Iker's cheek. ''Yes, tonight I'll do whatever you want,''

''Can you play cards with me?'' Iker asked, a hopeful glitter in his beautiful eyes. Gigi felt completely dumbfounded for a split second. ''Cards?'' he repeated dumbly.

''Yes, me, Pepe Reina, David Villa, Cesc and Silva used to play cards during the euros and world cups. Even after a loss. It always managed to cheer me up,'' Iker admitted, looking profoundly at Gigi, as if he tried to convince him by batting his eyelashes at him. ''Would you play a game with me? I could teach you how, it's not difficult. I even brought a deck of cards with me,'' he added, as he fished a set of cards from his jean's pocket.

When Gigi failed to come up with a decent reply, a blush crept over Iker's porcelain cheeks and he shook his head. ''If you don't want to it's fine, I just-''

Gigi took his hands into his own and held them tight. The coldness of the skin ached against his warm digits. ''No. I'll play. You just surprised me that's all,''

When Iker was in such close proximity, Gigi could nearly count the numerous tiny freckles that danced around his nose onto his cheeks. He had always wanted to count them sometime.

''Can we play it in your room?'' Iker asked, as that mischievous smile returned to his face. Gigi wasn't imagining this was he? Iker was _flirting_ with him, right? I mean, he was suggesting to go up to Gigi's room with him.

That surely couldn't be _normal_ behavior, could it?

''Uh sure, my roommate has deserted me tonight anyway,'' he said, referring to Chiello who had texted him an hour ago, telling him that he had moved his stuff into Bonnie's room for the night, probably counting on Gigi to need the room to himself if he invited Iker over.

 _''Vale,_ let's get out of here then,'' Iker laughed.

They paid the young waiter for keeping the bar open till two in the morning and left for the seventh floor.  
When they reached Gigi's door, Iker smirked. ''What?'' Gigi asked.

''Nothing, the number on your door is just funny,'' he said, pointing to the 711 number on the white door. ''It's both our number, one and one. A goalies number,''  
Gigi frowned. ''Huh, I hadn't even noticed that yet,''

Gigi lead Iker inside and gestured him to sit down on his kingsize bed, but the goalie waited a while as his eyes scanned the room.

He was grateful he had kept his room tidy and organized ( well honestly Chiello was the one who kept it like that ), so that he made a good impression at Iker, who he assumed was tidy as well.

Iker however, stared at the pristine status of the room with an arched eyebrow. He clearly wasn't liking what he saw. ''Hm this is a bit too organized for me,''

''Seriously? I imagined that you were very tidy and organized,''

''Nah not so much, not in hotel rooms anyway. I used to drive Xavi up the walls with the mess I used to make. He was like you apparently, clean and tidy. After a while he just dumped me with Sergio, he couldn't take it anymore,''

''Well actually, Chiello keeps the room like this. I'm a bit messier than him but he hates how I keep it so he tidies after me. He's like my work wife honestly,'' Gigi admitted.

Iker brazenly sat down on Gigi's bed and crossed his legs as he folded a pillow behind the headboard. ''Hm I'll bet. So are you going to sit down?''

Gigi felt a nervous lump form in the back of his throat.

Fuck why was this so difficult?

What was it about Iker that always made him act like an insecure little boy?  
He sat down across from Iker, folding his legs together as well and crossing his arms in front of his body. ''So what are we playing today?''

''It's a game called Burro, which of course means donkey.  
The objective of the game is to get four cards of the same number. It's better to play it with more people, but you can do it with two. It just takes longer for anyone to win,'' Iker explained.

He told Gigi how the game worked and they got to play.

It wasn't difficult, luckily, because Gigi wasn't aiming to look dumb in Iker's eyes. During the game Iker slowly started to look ten years younger, much to Gigi's relief. He was smiling from ear to ear, was cheering whenever he won a round and there was finally some color back on his cheeks.

Iker eventually won the game, _many_ hours later and he embraced Gigi tightly, making happy noises in his ear. Gigi peered at the alarm clock and noticed that it was four-thirty in the morning. Christ he was going to be useless at recovery training in a few hours.

But it didn't matter.

He had made Iker smile again and that was worth more to him than anything else in the world right now.  
Iker held onto him for so long, face buried on Gigi's shoulder, that he feared his friend had fallen asleep, but a nudge to his arm told him that Iker was still up.

''Hm thank you for doing this, you have no idea what that meant to me. You're a great friend Gigi and the best person I know,''

Gigi felt his heart swell up with pride. ''You're welcome my dear friend. Now go to sleep, you can barely keep your eyes open,''

Iker shook his head, protesting. ''m _fine_ , I can walk back to my own hotel or take a taxi,'' he mumbled.

Gigi untangled himself from Iker's death grip and pushed him down into his pillows. ''Don't be ridiculous, there's a bed right here. Just go to sleep and return to your own hotel in the morning,''

''But this is _your_ bed,'' Iker murmured.

''Yes, I'll take Chiello's, don't worry,'' he said and he rose to his feet to walk over to the other side of the room.

However, Iker grabbed his hand before he could take off. ''No, stay here. Please...I don't wanna be alone,'' his voice broke and Gigi felt his heart ache at his misery.

Gigi leaned in and stroked his cheek again. ''That's _not_ a very good idea my friend,''

Iker locked his eyes with his and a furious expression roamed over his face. ''Maybe not, but I don't care. You promised to give me _whatever_ I wanted tonight,'' he said harshly.

Gigi knew when he was being manipulated. He also knew that no matter what happened, the last thing he should do was climb into the same bed as Iker, especially in their drunk, hazy state.

He could nearly hear Chiello shouting in his ears that he was being an idiot.

But the problem was that Iker was right.

He had promised to give him whatever he wanted. Who was he if he went back on his word? Gigi was a man who deemed himself proud that he always kept his promises. For without his word, who was he?

If he said he would do something, he would do it. Regardless of the consequences.

So he would give Iker whatever he wanted, but tomorrow at lunch, he would let him know that he didn't appreciate being manipulated like that. He was not some helpless puppy, he was Gigi Buffon, captain of the Azzuri. He still had his pride.

Supporting Iker through his nightmare was one thing, but he wasn't going to take shit lying down when he was sober.

He stroked his hand through Iker's soft hair and exasperated. ''Fine, I'll stay, but move over, that's my side,''

Iker smiled as radiant as the sun and moved to the right, before snuggling the covers over his body and turning his back to Gigi.

''I'll be out in a sec, I'm going to brush my teeth first,'' Gigi said, realizing only a second ago that he had forgotten to do so. He hated going to bed without brushing his teeth, it made him feel dirty.

Iker mumbled something in response. When Gigi came back from the bathroom, Iker was sound asleep.

His jaw was dangling open slightly and a drop of drool was sliding down his chin.

He had never looked more _vulnerable_. More adorable, or more human. How could someone so strong suddenly look so frail. 

Gigi couldn't help himself. He _had_ to touch him.

He pulled the covers back and slid, fully clothed, under the thin blanket.   
As he turned to his side and crept a bit closer to Iker, he decided to halt a few inches away from the younger man.

Waves of intoxicating body heat basically _radiated_ from Iker, which was strange seeing how his blood always ran cold. Gigi slid a little closer so that his stomach very slightly touched Iker's back.

Iker pulled his arm back and led Gigi's arm around his waist, holding onto his hand for dear life. Gigi sighed as he finally conceded to what he really wanted.

To be _closer_ to Iker. To give in to the man he had loved for so many years. 

He knew that it was stupid, that they would probably regret it in the morning but he couldn't help himself. When Iker entwined their fingers together, he nearly melted.

He buried his head into Iker's warm neck and pulled him further into his embrace.

He folded his leg over Iker's, trying to get the most out of the moment.

When he was laying in a comfortable position, with all his arms and limbs cradled around Iker, he leaned in to kiss Iker's cheek. He saw the hint of a smile dancing on his Spaniard's face.

Iker was _his_ little spoon now. If only for a moment. Perhaps it would be enough for him.

 _Someday_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did you like it? 
> 
> Flo was very much like: 'boy interrupted'  
> I don't even know if he sleepwalks, probably not but it fitted into the chapter I guess. I wanted Gigi's paternal side to show a little more. 
> 
> The game Burro actually exists, but I'm not certain if it's the one that Iker used to play with Pepe and the gang. I do know for sure that they played a lot of cards and I felt like it suited the story for them to play to cheer Iker up a bit, instead of having a long, boring talk about their feelings. I mean, they are men right? They are not that open about feelings. 
> 
> So let me know what you thought about this chapter. Opinions mean a lot to me.


	3. Brother let me be your shelter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gigi has a visitor after his night with Iker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't suppose to become such a long story honestly, I had hoped to make it two chapters or maybe three, but we're nowhere near the end of this. I don't mind making it longer, but I hope you guys don't think it'll become boring. 
> 
> I just wanted to explore Gigi's friendships a little more.  
> The next chapter will be their lunch date, I promise. I hope to make that tomorrow. 
> 
> Let me know if you still like this, opinions and kudos mean a lot to me.

_June 28th._

 

 

 

Gigi awoke to the sound of someone nearby loudly clearing his throat. ''Good morning _sweetheart_ ,'' the heavy voice quipped.

He knew that voice. Knew it by heart.

As he started to peek behind his eyelashes, a persistent headache and a dry mouth told him that drinking so much last night had definitely came with a price that he was going to pay all day today.

God why couldn't he ever contain himself when it came to his epic gluttony? It was by far his _worst_ vice.

A solid figure was plastered against his side and the brown hair told him that Iker was still beside him. At least he hadn't dreamt that part, he thought with a smug smile.

When his eyes could finally sustain the bright morning light without trying to burn a hole inside of his head, he saw Dero standing at his bedside, wearing his blue training clothes.

The brutish Roman was looking quite chipper and barely even hungover. Gigi didn't know _how_ he did it.

Dero always got insanely drunk but somehow always escaped the hangover that followed with most normal people.

Not to mention that he was a morning person, so he had probably been up for hours now, barely getting any sleep last night. How in god's name was he looking so-radiant?

Iker mumbled something in his sleep and stirred a bit, but didn't awake when Gigi pulled his arm back from his side, moved away from him and sat up, rubbing his eyes.  
''Ugh what exactly are you doing here Dero?''

Dero impatiently tabbed his watch. ''Um waking you up? It's ten-fifteen. We have recovery training at eleven-thirty. And you need breakfast first, so I ordered you guys some,'' he announced as he rolled a trolley filled with deliciously smelling pastries forward.

The scent of fresh espresso filled his nostrils and Gigi sighed happily at the prospect of incoming caffeine, before turning back to Dero, staring at him with disbelief written all over his face.

''Did you _steal_ this from room service?'' Gigi asked sharply. He kept his voice down not to wake Iker, but the Spaniard seemed to be out cold despite of what they would do.

Dero gave him an offended gaze. ''No, I _ordered_ it, as I said,''  
''Uhu, and are you absolutely sure about that?''

''Yes, I wouldn't steal a lingering cart from the hallway on my way over here now would I?'' Dero grinned, his blue eyes saying the exact opposite.

''No of course not, can you imagine such a thing?'' Gigi decided to play the game with him, mostly because he knew that if he didn't indulge Dero he would get cranky soon. Dero needed his games, they kept him sane and healthy. ''Which room did you steal it from?''

''Oh would you relax, I got it from Matteo and Mattia's room. Like they're going to miss it? They are going to be too busy boning each other to notice,''

''You _stole_ their breakfast? You know how they get when they're hungry after sex. They are going to kill you,'' Gigi ensured him, but Dero was far from impressed.

''They wouldn't dare to mouth off to me. The kids are all too afraid I might explode to be cocky to me. They treat me like I'm an atom bomb waiting to go off,''

''Little do they know that you're all talk and no action,'' Gigi teased. He slid out of his bed and stretched himself lazily. 

Dero nudged his ribs a little harder than Gigi had anticipated and bristled. ''Hey, what's that suppose to mean? Are you calling me a limb dick because that's completely uncalled for! And a complete lie!''

Gigi shook his head quickly, assuring the Roman of his good intentions. ''No, I wouldn't dare to imply that. But come on Dero, you _cry_ at every sad thing you see. You have the biggest heart out of anyone here and I love that about you, but yes deep down under that lion-like exterior of yours, you are quite the softie,''

Dero rolled his eyes at him as a furious blush crept over his bearded cheeks. He punched Gigi in the gut, not too hard but somehow it stung. ''Shut up! But this wasn't what I came here for. I need to talk to you, about well that,'' he said, pointing at Iker's sleeping figure.

Gigi raised his eyebrow confused. ''About Iker?''

''Yes, can we talk outside, I don't want him overhearing this,''

''All right, but give me a second, I have to pee first,'' Gigi went to the toilet to empty his heavy bladder. When he returned he let Dero step into the hallway first, took the keycard from the desk and let the door slide closed with a soft thud.

He crossed his arms in front of him and waited for Dero to speak.

''You _shouldn't_ do it,'' the blond Roman bursted out.  
''Um do what Dero?''

''Tell Iker about how you feel,'' Dero said cautiously, as if he were afraid Gigi would get mad at him.  
''Excuse me?''

''Look, I know what you're planning to do, Chiello told me all about it. But he didn't _have_ to, because I bumped into Flo this morning and he told me he'd saw Iker in the lobby with you last night. When Chiello told me you were going for lunch with 'someone' today, I connected the dots. Look I know how you feel about him, hell we all do. You're not as subtle as you think you are when it comes to him,'' Gigi opened his mouth to reply but Dero raised his hand to silence him, ''that said, no good is going to come of telling Iker how you feel toward him. He just had another baby with his girlfriend, and yes I know that he doesn't love her, it's just a sham relationship to hide his bisexuality, but still.

''What if you tell him that you've always been in love with him? Two things are going to happen, either he'll say he feels the same or he doesn't. Even if he does love you, he will never be with you openly, you know that. He's slept with several players over the past few years, but he always keeps pretending to be straight. Neither can you openly be with a man in our country, you know how most people feel about gay marriage in Italy.  
This will _never_ end well. I'm just worried that you're going to get your heart broken and I doubt if he would be worth it, honestly. You've lived without Iker as your partner for your entire life, is it really worth it to risk everything in order to be with him? Even if it only lasts a minute? Look, you're a giving man and you're the most loving person that I know. But he is _not_ like you. He is an insanely selfish man who will choose what's best for him over whatever you want in a heartbeat,''

Gigi let the words wash over him like waves onto a rock and inhaled deep. His heart was hammering furiously in his chest. ''You spoke with Andrea about this didn't you?''

Dero conceded a pitiful look and took Gigi's hand into his own. ''I did, he's just worried about you as well. He used to _love_ you my friend, of course he still cares about your happiness and well being,''

Gigi clenched his jaw and yanked his hands out of Dero's strong grip. ''Go back to your room,'' he ordered, a vein popping on his forehead.

Dero paled visibly and looked at terrified as a young child who was at the mercy of his harsh father. The sight of Dero being actually _scared_ of him was completely foreign to him.

Dero was a lion, he wasn't afraid of anything. Seeing the sheer fear in the blue eyes was _unsettling_. ''Gigi come on, don't be like that-''

''And don't ever mention his name to me again. And don't you fucking dare tell Chiello about any of this. If you do I'll kill you,''  
Dero swallowed thickly. ''Gigi-'' his voice broke and he had never sounded more vulnerable.

''Go! Get out of here!'' Gigi moved before he could stop himself and pinned Dero roughly against a wall, hearing some bones crack under the concrete.  
Dero swallowed back a groan but held it together.

Gigi could swear he saw a tear shimmering in his friend's eye, due to his sudden fury.

Dero stilled under his grip but slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket and took a plastic bag out of it. It was filled with some form of dark powder. Dero shoved it into Gigi's left hand. 

''What the _hell_ is that?'' Gigi sneered. He was panting due to his anger.

Dero handed him the content and smiled briefly. ''It's Cola Cao, for Iker. Morata gave me some of it from his can, for my Gaia and Olivia you know. But I figured that Iker would want some with his breakfast. I thought it might make you look good with him,''

Gigi couldn't stop his jaw from dropping if he tried his hardest. He felt his surprise taking over from his anger. He released his grip on Dero's shoulders. ''But what about all that stuff you just said?''

''I don't know, I mean what the fuck do I know?  
Just because I think making a move wouldn't be smart, doesn't mean that you shouldn't make a move. It's your life and you two do have a special connection, so what do I know? I thought it was my duty as your good friend to warn you about the consequences that follow your actions. But if you're going to tell him, then winning him over should be easy when you give him this for breakfast. It's his weakness isn't it?''

Gigi nodded, feeling a small smile return to his lips as his anger faded away as quickly as it had appeared. He felt his hands moving on their own accord, slowly releasing Dero's jacket and moving to his cheek to stroke the bearded skin gently.

''Do you love him? I mean _really_ love him, as you never loved anyone else in your life?'' Dero asked.

Gigi pondered on that for a while before he replied. He wasn't sue whether he was ready to admit it out loud. He was afraid it would cost him too much. ''Yes, I'm afraid that I do,''

''Yes I thought so, you-know-who told me about the time when you called him Iker during sex,'' Dero said, referring to Andrea.

Gigi felt a furious blush returning to his cheeks as he swelled up in fury. ''HE TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT?!'' he shouted so loud that the entire floor had probably heard him.

Shit, that moment where he had yelled out Iker's name instead of Andrea's had been the most embarrassing memory he had ever had with his pervious bed partners.

Thankfully, Andrea had taken it fairly well, seeing how he never panicked about anything, or took anything personal. He was always so damn calm.

They were just best friend who happened to climb into bed together from time to time. It didn't mean anything to them. Andrea loved him, but as a friend and visa versa. Gigi would never jeopardize their friendship by reaching for a relationship.

Besides, Gigi valued monogamy in a relationship, a word that Andrea had never even heard of, therefore making them the worst fit for a serious relationship.

Dero nervously gnawed on his lower lip. ''Yes, he told me about that years ago. In his defense, he was really _drunk_ when he told me.  
I didn't want to say anything about it to you and I never told anyone else, don't worry. It's just, if you call out Iker's name during sex than you do love him. And I can totally see you two in thirty years, sitting on the porch of a little cottage by the sea, holding hands, talking about football tactics.  
I can see it, truly. But I can't see a picture like that for the present time. Look if you want to do this, then you have my blessing, but don't count on it going the way you want it to. You might end up heartbroken. Life isn't a song,''

Gigi snorted. ''Did you just quote a line from game of thrones to me?''  
''Yes, I didn't know that you watch that show,''

''I don't but Ciro was watching it on his phone in the bus and I accidentally that line passed by,''  
''Oh well, that doesn't mean that it's not a good saying,''

''Hm true, I guess,''

''Now go inside and give that poor man some breakfast. And try to get some rest, you look like a train wreck,'' Dero deadpanned. His directness had always been part of his charm, but sometimes Gigi really hated it.

''Thanks Dero,'' he said dryly, as he embraced the Roman midfielder as a thank you for his advice.

Somehow, hearing that he looked like hell today wasn't exactly something he appreciated.

Not when he finally wanted to tell Iker about the feelings he'd been hiding for so long.

But Dero's words had awoken a whirlwind of doubt in his mind and a parade of questions were roaming around in his head, nagging at him. He knew rationally that Dero had made some very good points.

Risking it all for love was a liability. Iker could reject him, could be abhorrent to the very suggestion of being with him. He could love Sergio instead of him, despite the fact that Iker had always ensured him that he didn't love Sergio like that.

Sergio was in love with Iker, that much would never change, but Iker had always sworn that Sergio's feeling were left unanswered.

But how could they be? Sergio was _absolutely_  gorgeous. What person in their right mind would ever say no to having him in their bed?

Especially someone like Iker, who had slept with loads of his teammates. Gigi found it extremely hard to believe that Sergio was the only guy that Iker would voluntarily kick out of his bed when he offered himself to him.

Seeing them together had always made him insanely jealous, which had been why he was always so clingy to Iker when they met up in the tunnel.

He wanted Iker to only have eyes for him. And yes he knew that it was childish and slightly pathetic ( okay _very_ pathetic actually ), but Iker brought his possessive side forward in ways he had never expected. He needed Iker to desire him, to want him so fiercely that he would move mountains to be able to be with him.

Gigi had always been a hopeless dreamer when it came to Iker. Dero was right, life wasn't a song. Things didn't go the way you wanted them to.

Everything was always a challenge.

Dero patted him on the back, smiled at him and stood on his toes to peck his cheek. ''You're welcome, take care of yourself today okay. Stay sharp,''  
''You're a good friend,'' Gigi told him.

''Yes I know that,'' Dero winked.

Gigi clasped ahold of his face, pressed a kiss to his forehead and held him still as he locked one pair of blue eyes with the other. ''But if you _ever_ mention my sex life again, you and I are going to have issues,''

Dero chuckled and gave him a short nod. ''Fair enough,'' he turned on his heels and left him gaping at his door.

Gigi had his hand on the door handle for a while before he finally released it and slummed to the carpeted floor in the hallway. He wasn't ready to go in just yet.

He needed time to collect his thoughts. Dero's words had scared him to his core.

He needed to talk to Chiello, he was the only one who would be able to calm him at the moment, who would understand what he needed to hear.

But his phone was inside the hotel room and if he were to reach it, he needed to go in, facing Iker. He tried to remember the room schedule in order to find out where Bonnie's room had been, but his alcohol induced mind eluded him. He placed his head onto his arms and sighed. 

He tried to come up with what Chiello would say to him if he had been here.

Probably that if Gigi didn't try it, he would never know what the future looked like. Chiello had always been urging him to take more risks.

But Gigi had always been immensely afraid of enduring heartache. Afraid that it would eat him alive if he dared to put his heart on the line and then got rejected.

He wasn't certain he would be able to recover from Iker crushing his heart into two. Perhaps it would be better to forget about all of this and move on with his life, he thought sadly.

A familiar ringtone arose from their room and Gigi instantly recognized it as his own. He quickly slid his keycard into the door and opened it, nearly running inside in the hope that Iker wouldn't awake just yet.

He stumbled to the desk and grabbed his phone, unlocking it and accepting the call from Chiello, because who else would be calling him?

He quickly gazed at Iker, who was still face down in his pillow, eyes shut. Whether he was asleep or faking it wasn't clear to Gigi.

''Chiello?'' he whispered.  
''Hey, are you okay? I was worried,''

''Why were you worried?''  
''I bumped into Dero in the hallway,''

Gigi sighed deep. ''I'm fine, can you come over though? I need to speak with you right now,''  
''No, you don't. You can _handle_ this yourself, I know you can,'' Chiello mused wisely.

Gigi swore under his breath. Why did Dero always have to be such a tattletale? ''No I can't. I need _you_. Please, I'm completely lost right now,''

''Gigi, listen to me okay. You need to calm down. Look at Iker for me?''  
Gigi stared at the sleeping goalie. ''Okay I am, now what?''

''He is _not_ going to reject you. Now you man up, make your Spaniard some breakfast and go to training with us in an hour. You don't have to tell him anything just yet, save that for your lunch date. It's all going to be fine. Take a deep breath, wake him and have a nice breakfast. Keep it breezy all right?''

Gigi snorted. Breezy? What the hell did that even mean?

How could Chiello even be sure that Iker wouldn't reject him? He shouldn't say things like that. It only set Gigi up for failure and disappointment.

''God I hate you,'' Gigi exasperated.  
''Yes I love you too, see you in a bit,'' Chiello ended the call, leaving a seriously confused Gigi behind.

A voice arose from the other side of the room. ''Let me guess, that was your work wife?'' Iker groaned as he sat up.

Gigi forced the blush that attempted to creep down his cheeks away and steadied himself. ''Yes, who else. Are you all right?''

Iker sat up against, folded his pillows against the headboard and yawned. ''Fine, bit of a headache, a bit tired, but I've had worse. And you?''  
''I'm all right, do you want some Cola Cao?'' he asked gleefully.

Iker's eyes lit up. ''You have that here?''  
Gigi took the bag out of his pocket and showed it to Iker. ''Yes we have some here,''

''Brilliant!'' Iker wanted to get out of the bed to make it himself, but Gigi pushed him back into the pillows. ''I can do it, you relax,''

He mixed the content of the bag with some hot water and stirred it around till it was a nice dark mass. He handed the cup to Iker and poured himself some espresso and sat down beside Iker. He downed the cup in three big sips and placed it onto his nightstand.

Their bodies were nearly touching, but he deliberately made sure that the choice for contact would be Iker's.

''Grazie, god this is amazing,'' Iker chimed, looking as excited as a child on christmas morning.

''You're welcome,'' Gigi winked. He took a sip of his coffee and instantly felt a little better.

''So I uh, wanted to thank you for last night. It really meant a lot to me. You taking me up on my offer to play Burro. You gave me such a good time and I will always appreciate that. You didn't have to do this but the fact that you did, it just shows how big your beautiful heart truly is. So thank you, truly,'' Iker said.

He took ahold of Gigi's hand and held onto it tight, stroking the skin of his palm with his forefinger. It made Gigi shiver with the need to wrap his arms around Iker and swallow him whole.

But he couldn't do that. Not right now. Not here.

However when Iker finished his drink and put his cup on the nightstand, he lowered his head to Gigi's shoulder. Gigi instantly felt his last defenses fall through and he cradled his arm around Iker's shoulder, pulling him in closer so that they could hold each other properly.

Iker's arm came around his stomach and rested there as he buried his face into the nook of Gigi's shoulder, his face buried just under his chin. 'Don't kiss him, whatever you do,' a voice in his head said, sounding very similar to Dero's voice of reason.

And yet somehow, his lips had magically wandered off to Iker's forehead. Fuck he was completely and totally screwed.  
''You're very welcome my friend,'' he heard himself say as he wrapped his arms tighter around Iker's body, holding onto him for dear life.

After all, it might all be gone tomorrow.

''I have to go take a shower now and get ready for training,'' Gigi murmured into Iker's hair, already hating himself for not prolonging the hug as he knew he should.

''Don't you have to eat?'' Iker asked, sounding concerned.

''Yes I'll eat something when I'm done in the shower. Feel free to stay here if you like, mi casa es su casa,''

Iker leaned in and kissed his cheek. ''I might do that, I'm in no mood to see my teammates right now. I think I'll sleep some more here before going back to my hotel room to change for our lunch date,''

Gigi flinched when Iker used the word _'date'._

Did Iker see this as a date? Or was it just a matter of speaking? Was he imagining things again?  
Nevertheless his cheeks turned crimson. ''All right, do whatever you like. I'll see you later,''

Gigi reluctantly released Iker and headed toward the showers. As he plastered his exhausted body against the steamy wall of the shower and felt the water swallowing him whole, he felt a little shard of hope returning to his heart.

The water had a powerful way of soothing him and he took his time indulging in the comfort. Giving his restless mind a little time to recover. 

Whenever he was standing in the shower, he felt reborn.

As if the water washed all the doubts away, erasing them from his heart, leaving him more clearheaded than ever.

When he came out of the bathroom Iker was sound asleep once again. A warm smile plastered on his beautiful face.

He was looking so innocent, so pure. So utterly carefree and young.

As if the weight of the world no longer resided on his shoulders.

Gigi couldn't help himself. He moved toward the bed without properly thinking it through.

He sat down at Iker's body and stroked his cheek lightly with his fingers. As he did, Iker's smile widened and Gigi's heart nearly gave out under him.

He leaned in so that his nose was nearly touching Iker's and his lips were hovering over his. They were so close that he inhaled Iker's breath several times. It made him quiver with desire.

Gigi  _needed_ to kiss him, it was no longer a question of wanting something, this was about sheer, uncontrollable need. Something he had denied himself for almost fifteen years. 

He needed it as much as he needed air into his lungs. But when his lips nearly touched Iker's, he felt himself recoil. He shouldn't do it like this. Not while Iker was sleeping. It wasn't right.

He shouldn't take advantage of the fact that Iker wouldn't be able to reject his affections. When he and Iker would kiss, it had to be with both of their consent.

So instead he redirected his lips to Iker's soft cheek where they rested.

Iker's nose crinkled slightly and his smile spread. Gigi swallowed his tears away and quickly left his room.

When he opened the door two familiar faces were there waiting on him. Dero and Chiello stretched their arms out to him, as if they had somehow seen everything that had happened in his room.

They hadn't of course, but they were experts on reading his facial expressions.

Gigi fell into their arms and they held him without saying a word.

Silent tears flowed freely from his blue eyes as he felt two pair of strong arms cradling him into a tight embrace.

He instantly felt a little better now that they were there with him. He wasn't alone in all of this.

His _brothers_ were there with him. He was safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC.... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW I cannot promise you guys that this will have a happy ending. I don't know whether it's that kind of story. 
> 
> I guess we'll have to see what happens. I know as much as you do. My inspiration hits me like a wave and I honestly never know where my stories will go until I write them. 
> 
> I hoped you liked this! I wanted to give Dero some more lines and who can write Iker without his Cola Cao right? Gaia and Olivia are Dero's daughters. 
> 
> Oh I also made Matteo Darmian and Mattia de Sciglio a couple, as requested. Hope you like that.


	4. Goodbye my almost lover.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gigi and Iker have lunch. 
> 
> Revelations are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the lunch date chapter is here. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Va Bene means: yes all right, in Italian.

_June 28th._

 

 

 

 

''You're going to wear _that?_ Really?'' Dero snorted, arching a critical, blond eyebrow at Gigi's black Armani suit.

They had just finished their recovery training and were back in their hotel, where Gigi was anxiously getting ready for his lunch date with Iker.

He had been completely and utterly useless in training, his nerves about his date had clearly gotten the better of him.

Zaza had even been able to kick a ball right into his face when he wasn't paying attention. It stung a little but thankfully hadn't left a ball shaped bruise behind on his face.

Poor Zaza had apologized a million times, clearly startled about what he'd done but Gigi assured him that it hadn't been his fault.  
He simply hadn't been paying attention.

Even worse, he had let a few balls roll into his goal, balls he should have been able to save, leading to some curious looks from his teammates who were obviously wondering why he was making it so easy on them.

He could basically feel their prying looks burning a hole into his head.

They were truly concerned that he was losing his form. That he was going to screw up against Germany.

But he couldn't tell them the truth, for it was far too embarrassing to admit out loud. He was a thirty-eight year old man who was nervous to go on a lunch date with his old friend.

It was bloody _ridiculous_ to think, let alone to mention it.

So he lied and told Conte that he was just really hungover and not feeling like himself today. Luckily that excuse seemed to be effective.

Even more surprising was the fact that Flo apparently hadn't told anyone about seeing Iker in the lobby. Gigi had been fairly certain that Flo would have told everyone about their little meet but he had kept it to himself. Probably because Chiello had threatened to kick him in his shins if he told anyone, he thought.

Now that he was back in his room, he stood in front of his closet and vetoed every single item of clothing that he had. Until he had found his suit, and god did he _love_  this suit. It made him look very classic.

However Dero seemed to disagree.  
The Roman was chewing on his lower lip to prevent himself from bursting out in a roaring laugh.

Dero briefly reminded him of a lazy cat that was lying like a ball on top of his bed. His head was plastered against the white pillow and he had curled up into a fetal position. He was wearing his blue training kit again, because Dero would live in his Azzuri clothes if he could.

Chiello was standing at the edge of the bed, arms folded together and a bemused look in his eyes.

Gigi knew that his thoughts were preoccupied with numerous other things. More important topics than his lunch date. His best friend had always had a brilliant, but restless mind.

Gigi smoothed his sleeves and sighed debauched. ''And what is wrong with this suit Dero?''

Dero snorted amused. ''Wrong? Nothing. It's absolutely _perfect_. If you're going to the opera or a Ballon d'Or gala. It's fucking lunch at a casual restaurant _pirla_.  
No need to dress up like a snotty penguin. Just put on some nice jeans and a blouse or something. That azure blue one matches your eyes very nicely, I would suggest that one. Am I right or what Chiello?''

Chiello blinked twice and returned his thoughts back to his friends. ''Hm? Oh right, yes you should wear the blue shirt,''

''You weren't even paying attention to what we were saying,'' Dero complained.

''Yes I was,''  
''You were definitely not,''

''I was!''  
''Stop embarrassing yourself Chiello, you're smarter than this,'' Dero grumbled.

''Shut up! Both of you! I don't have time for your pointless arguing, I need to be ready in less than twenty minutes!'' Gigi interjected. A shiver went over his spine at the realization of time catching up on him and he felt a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. He callously wiped it away.

He needed to calm down, he had no time to take another shower.

''Then go change into some normal clothes,'' Dero teased, giving him a big triumphant smile.

''Fine,'' Gigi took his suit off and changed into his dark blue Armani jeans and his favorite blouse. When he looked at his friends he saw that Chiello was quietly working on his phone, but Dero was still lying there, waiting.

Dero gave him a short approving nod. ''Much better, wouldn't you agree?'' he said as he nudged Chiello's upper leg, tearing him loose from his phone. ''Yes, much better,''

''You sound like a fucking parrot,'' Dero told him.

''Go to hell wiseass,'' Chiello retorted.  
''Don't need to _sweetheart_ , I'm the king of hell, remember?'' Dero replied, with an evil smile lingering on his lips.

Gigi cleared his throat to intervene their bickering. ''Thanks guys, you've been a big help,'' he said sarcastically.

Chiello put his phone in his pocket and clasped onto his arm. ''Look we're sorry all right. You know that we're always on your side. You look amazing. Now go and get your man,''

Gigi blushed at the words _'your man'_ and embraced Chiello tightly. ''Grazie, I appreciate it,''

''It's still a shame that you didn't even eat that delicious breakfast I stole for you and Iker. I mean I go through all that trouble to get you two a nice romantic breakfast and then you don't even touch it,'' Dero quipped, sounding like a disappointed three-year old who didn't get an ice-cream.

Gigi rolled his eyes. ''He was asleep when I returned from the shower, what would you have had me do? Wake him? That would have been mean, seeing how exhausted he was. I let him sleep, so forgive me that we didn't eat your stolen breakfast. He drank the Cola Cao though,''

''Fine, I forgive you, but next time you better eat it,'' Dero threatened, ''and I told you that you would score massive points with that chocolate milk didn't I?'' he added with a smug grin.

''Yes you did. But maybe next time, you just order room service like a _normal_ person would,''

''Now where's the fun in that?'' Dero asked, a sly smirk on his face.

There was a loud knock on the door and Chiello walked toward it to open it. Barza and Bonnie appeared in the doorway and quickly stepped inside.

''What are you two doing here?'' Gigi asked surprised.  
''We wanted to wish you good luck for your date,'' Barza told him. ''You look very nice,'' Bonnie assured him.

''How did you two even know-'' Gigi mumbled, but deep down, he already knew. He stared at Dero who was innocently averting his eyes to the ceiling, whistling a soft tune. ''DERO?!!''

Dero smiled mischievously. ''What? They're your best friends. I figured that they had a _right_ to know. Besides, technically they found out on their own.  
They saw Iker walking out of the lobby and instantly realized why he had been here. Not my fault. I only confirmed their suspicions. So _technically_ I didn't do anything wrong,''

Gigi's blue eyes widened with fury. ''You didn't do anything wrong?!''  
''Not _technically_ no,''

''God you're insufferable,''  
''I thought that was what you loved about me?'' Dero retorted.

''Hmm not today Dero,''

Bonnie placed his hand on Gigi's arm and turned his attention to him. ''Don't be mad. We just wanted to wish you good luck and to let you know that we'll be here for you, no matter what happens today,''

Gigi smiled gently and clasped onto Bonnie's face with both his hands. ''I'm not mad, I'm just insanely nervous. I can barely breathe,''

''Well I don't want to make it worse but you really need to go, it's a five minute walk and you don't want to be late,'' Chiello reminded him.

Gigi's heart hammered in his throat. He kissed Bonnie's cheek and embraced him quickly. ''Thank you for coming over, you too Barza,'' he said as he hugged his other defender.

''Guys, give us a minute,'' Dero said as he rose from the bed. It was an order, wrapped up into a nice package but an order nonetheless.

The defenders stared at Gigi, asking him if they should comply and Gigi nodded briefly. ''It's okay, go,''

They wished him good luck and left, shutting the door behind them with a soft thud.

''What is it Dero? I need to leave otherwise I'll be late,'' Gigi said impatiently. He wasn't exactly in the mood for another argument with the stubborn Roman.

Today was going to be hard enough as it was.

''Don't worry, this will only take a second,'' Dero assured him and before Gigi could reply, Dero had wrapped his arms around him and held onto him for dear life. His strong arms came around Gigi's waist and he buried his head into his shoulder.

Gigi nearly let out a muffled groan for he felt the air leaving his lungs at the suffocating embrace. He could have sworn he heard some of his ribs crack under the muscled arms. 

But he hugged Dero back, not really understanding why he did it, but suddenly needing the comfort of his friend's strong arms.

He needed to feel that everything would be all right, no matter how today would end.

When Dero pulled back, he cradled Gigi's face, stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to both his cheeks. ''What was that for?'' Gigi panted, still amazed by Dero's actions.

Dero shrugged, but his eyes were kind. ''That was to let you know that we are with you, all of us. You're not alone and you will never be alone. As long as we're around, you will always have us to fall back on. We will take care of you.  
Because that's what family does. You're my brother Gigi and I love you. Everything will be fine today, just be yourself. Be strong all right,''

Gigi blinked a couple of times to prevent his tears from rolling down his cheeks. Dero had never spoken to him in such a tender manner.

He barely ever showed his softer side to Gigi, and he certainly never told him that he loved him.  
It had felt like being embraced by a warm blanket after an icy winter day.

''Grazie Dero, you're the best. And I love you as well,'' Gigi mumbled as he placed a peck to Dero's temple.

''I know, now go before you're late,'' Dero smiled and he shoed Gigi out the door.

As he walked toward the Italian restaurant he couldn't get Dero's words out of his head. Somehow they had managed to calm him down.  
Two minutes till two he arrived in the restaurant, seeing to his relief that Iker wasn't there yet.

He told the waiter he had a reservation and the middle aged man led him to a small table in the farthest corner of the restaurant. There were a couple of people eating in the restaurant but it was mostly quiet.

Some of them stared at Gigi, clearly recognizing him. Luckily, their table was pretty remote from the other tables.

It was a really romantic table, complete with lit candles, roses in a vase and cheesy background music.

For a moment he hesitated to blow out the candles, seeing how he didn't want to give Iker the wrong impression, but he reconsidered as he reminded himself that he was trying to tell Iker how he felt toward him today. A few lit candles would maybe get the message across even quicker.

Five very long minutes after his own arrival, Iker finally appeared. For a moment Gigi had been scared that Iker might have ditched him, but that wasn't his style.

Iker was wearing a pair of black jeans and a dark gray blouse. He looked absolutely amazing. Gigi had never seen anyone this beautiful.

As Iker neared their table Gigi felt his legs move automatically and he stood up to greet him.

He embraced Iker briefly and kissed his cheeks. ''Hola Iker, I'm glad you could make it,'' he heard himself say.

''Ciao Gigi, thank you for inviting me. This place looks great,'' Iker smiled as he released Gigi and sat down in his seat.

''Yes, they have amazing Carbonara here, me and the team tried it out the other day. It's exactly as good as the Carbonara that my grandmother used to make and that says a lot,''

''Really? Hm I can't wait to try it then. You look really nice, I like that shirt on you. It matches your eyes,'' Iker grinned, as he shot Gigi a flirtatious wink. Gigi forced his blush down with everything he had and luckily he succeeded. Holy shit, Iker was flirting with him again.

He was certain of it now. 'This is the part where you _flirt_ _back_ you idiot,' he heard Dero say to him in the back of his mind.

''You look very nice too Iker, very sophisticated,'' Gigi said. Jesus, he had called him sophisticated??? This wasn't a job interview!

Fuck this was just a disaster. He should just call it quits and go home.

''What would you like to drink?'' the waiter interjected, tabbing impatiently on his notebook. ''I'll take a white wine please,'' Gigi said and Iker nodded in compliance. ''Same for me please,''

 _''Va bene_ , and do you know what you want to eat?'' the waiter asked.  
Iker grinned at Gigi. ''Two plates of Carbonara please,''

''Very good, I'll be right back with your wine,''

As the waiter returned with two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, Iker opened his mouth to say something.

Gigi quickly took a sip to give himself some liquid courage. Was he really ready to have this conversation? He had been dreading it for fifteen years.

''Look I wanted to apologize for falling asleep this morning. You had brought me such a nice breakfast and then I fell asleep before we got to enjoy it together. That was rude of me, so I'm sorry about that,''

Gigi briefly contemplated telling Iker the truth about how their breakfast had really ended up in his room, but decided that a little white lie made him look a bit better.  
''That's all right, don't worry about it. It's only room service,''

''Well I ate some of it after you left for training. But still, I feel bad about falling asleep,''

Gigi placed his hand over Iker's and held it tight. ''There's no need for that. You needed it after last night,''

He noticed that Iker's cold hand was slightly sweaty under his own and he wondered if Iker might be nervous as well.

After a few minutes of small talk the waiter brought their Carbonara. Gigi nearly drooled at the sent of the pasta he loved so much. He took a bite and closed his eyes in sheer bliss. ''Oh my god, this is amazing,'' he heard Iker murmur from across the table.

He smiled. ''I told you so. This is as close to my grandma's recipe as I've ever tasted. It's absolutely brilliant,''

''I thought you weren't allowed to eat this?'' Iker quipped as he took another sip of his wine. ''I'm not, but screw it. Conte would have my head if he saw, but he's not here and my grandma would kill me if I would say no to her famous pasta,'' Gigi grinned.

As they finished their plates in a comfortable silence, Gigi decided to brace himself for the question he'd been dreading for a while now.

''You aren't really going to retire now are you?'' he asked. He put his cutlery onto his empty plate and stared tensed at the Spanish goalie.

Iker inhaled deep and tangled their fingers together. His eyes softened a bit. ''No, because I told the world that I wouldn't retire until you did. Since you haven't retired yet neither will I. I keep my word Gigi,''

''But you do want to retire don't you?'' Gigi asked, staring intently at Iker's expressions.

Iker sighed deep. ''A little more everyday,''

''Then why don't you?''  
''Because I made a promise. I won't retire until you do,'' Iker retorted stubbornly.

''And? Promises don't mean _anything_ in our line of work and you know it,''  
''God you sound just like Sergio,'' Iker groaned.

''Oh really? Well if your _precious_ Ramos says it, it must be true,'' Gigi lashed out, feeling his jealousy reaching its peak as it bubbled over like lava onto a volcano.

Iker's eyes narrowed and Gigi could swear he saw a hint of amusement residing in the brown gems. ''You're jealous,'' he stated.

Gigi felt his cheeks flush. ''I am not, don't be ridiculous,''

''You totally are. You've always been jealous of Sergio. I've always seen it in your eyes. You don't hide it as well as you think you do,''  
''Don't be absurd,''

''It's not absurd, it's the truth. And I keep telling you that there's _nothing_ there between me and Sergio, but you never believed me,'' Iker said, a sad expression on his beautiful face.

''Well how can I! Just look at him. He's bloody perfect and he's in love with you. How can you tell me that you never slept with him?!'' Gigi lashed out.

All of his inner demons were coming out to play and he hated it as much as he loved setting them free from their dungeons.

His anger felt intoxicating. Finally admitting his feelings felt strangely freeing. As if it had been a load off his shoulders when he admitted to it.

''Yes, he's in love with me. But I _never_ loved him back. Not like that. Yes he kissed me once, when he was drunk, six years ago, but I pushed him off me immediately. I knew that I couldn't string him along like some dog on a leash.  
If I had slept with him it would only have enhanced his feelings for me and that wouldn't be fair to him.  
I slept with a lot of my teammates but that was never about feelings or love. Just sex. Sergio and I could never be just sex so I never took him to my bed.  
Never. I need you to believe that, I'm begging you,'' Iker pleaded.

''What does it matter to you whether I believe you or not?'' Gigi asked harshly.

He had literally felt his blood boil at the thought of Sergio kissing Iker.

He _knew_ it. He knew that something like that must have happened between them in all those years together. Considering Sergio's obvious feelings it had seemed inevitable.

''Because your opinion is the one that matters the most to me. Look I know why we're here and I know how you feel about me. I'm no fool. I've _always_ known. I've known since the first time I shook your hand. And I've always felt the same about you,''

Gigi's heart nearly gave out on him. Iker loved him back? Was he dreaming? He must have been.

This couldn't be real. But Iker's warm eyes told him a whole other story. There was love and admiration residing in them.

The kind that Gigi had seen in movies, read about in books but never ever thought he would see in Iker's eyes.

And especially not when Iker would look at him as if he was the most beautiful creature alive. And yet somehow Iker was looking at him precisely like that.

As if he'd never seen anything more _beautiful_ than Gigi.

Gigi felt his jaw tumbling open as he tried to compose himself but failed. This was all too much.

He hadn't expected this to be so easy. He had counted on many things: Iker rejecting his affections, Iker doubting if he loved him back.

But this. Iker actually admitting he was in love with Gigi, that hadn't been on his list.

Iker's hand had turned uncharacteristically warm into his and he felt his forefinger stroking his palm lovingly.

''But why didn't you ever tell me-'' Gigi choked out.

Iker snorted soft and placed his other hand on top of their conjoined fingers. ''How could I? We played in two different countries for our entire careers. I didn't want to do the long distance thing with you. I was a coward Gigi, I've been in love with you from day one but I decided to wait until we'd both retired to act on my feelings so that we could openly be together,''

Gigi shook his head confused. ''But we're not retiring yet, as we just confirmed. So why tell me now?''

''Well you were going to confess your feelings today weren't you?''

Gigi gritted his teeth, but conceded a nod. ''Maybe, yes,''

''Not maybe, _definitely_. So I decided to beat you to it. I reckoned that we had danced around each other long enough wouldn't you agree?'' Iker asked as he sensually entwined his leg with Gigi's under the table.

Gigi forced himself to focus, but Iker's constant touches were not exactly helpful. He felt a prominent bulge forming in his jeans and he swallowed thickly.

''What time is your bus going to the airport?'' Gigi groaned.

Iker checked his watch and gave him a sad gaze. ''We leave in two and a half hours,''

Gigi felt his heart sink into his stomach. Two and a half hours? He had Iker to himself for fucking two and a half hours?

It wasn't _fair_. None of this was fair.

It wasn't fair that they played in different countries, that they couldn't be together despite of the fact that they both wanted each other.  
How was it that god had made him love the one person he couldn't have.

Why couldn't he get what he wanted for a change?

He struggled against his furious tears. He wanted Iker. If only for a moment. A moment was better than nothing.

''Wanna get out of here?'' Gigi suggested, feeling his heart hammering in his chest at his bold suggestion.

He could see the hesitation on Iker's face, which wasn't exactly helpful. He panicked and started babbling nonsense. ''You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, it's fine either way, I just-''

Iker slipped out of his seat and sat down next to him, wrapping his arm around Gigi's waist and pecking his cheek briefly. ''It's not that I don't want to, because god knows that I want this more than I have ever wanted anything. But I _shouldn't_. If we do this, it only makes saying goodbye to one another even harder. You cannot be another booty call to me. You're far too valuable for me to treat you like that.  
This is what I want Gigi, I want you. But not only in my bed, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because what we have is real and I wouldn't give up on it.  
But if we go back to your room I won't be able to stop myself and I don't want to take advantage. Because I will leave you in two hours. I have no choice in that. We have careers and we should finish them with a good feeling,''

Gigi had listened intently to Iker's words but somehow they weren't registering in his mind. He knew Iker had made some good points but the heart wanted what it wanted.

''We won't have sex then, just come upstairs with me. Let me hold you for two more hours. At least give me that,'' he begged desperately.

Iker shot him a tentative gaze. ''All right, let's go then,''

They paid the waiter and left the restaurant together.

When they had reached the hotel lobby there was a familiar face waiting for them.

''Oh Iker, there you are! I've been looking all over for you. The bus is leaving a little earlier than planned. We're leaving in half an hour,'' Sergio said, as he tangled his arm into Iker's and tore him away from Gigi, giving him a possessive look that clearly told him to back off.

Iker sighed deep and untangled himself from Sergio's death grip. ''Okay, give us a moment please,'' he told Sergio.

The fierce Spaniard gave Gigi a furious look before he finally backed away, never letting Iker out of his sight though.

Sergio had never stared at Gigi with this much dismay in his brown eyes. It made Gigi really uncomfortable.

Sergio was looking at him as if he had stolen his favorite toy away from him. As if he hated him.  
''I'm sorry about that,'' Iker conceded, looking a little ashamed for Sergio's strange behavior.

''It's okay, don't worry about it,'' Gigi assured him.  
''I-um-I feel bad that we can't go upstairs, I actually really enjoyed being in your arms last night. I never felt that safe before,'' Iker blushed.

Gigi leaned in and clasped Iker's face tight into his warm hands. ''You will be in them again, that I can promise you. For they are yours, just like the rest of me will always be yours,''

Iker sniffed loud and Gigi saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. He felt his own emotions pricking in his eyes as well but swallowed them away. He didn't want Sergio to see his weakness.

''Come here,'' Gigi grumbled as he hauled Iker into the most heartbreaking hug he had ever given anyone in his life. He could actually feel his heart being torn into a thousand small pieces as Iker was sobbing in his arms.

This wasn't bloody fair. None if it was.

He felt a lonely tear escape his eyes despite his attempts to force them away. He felt Iker's fingers digging into his sides and heard his muffled cries, telling him that this was breaking his heart as much as it broke Gigi's.

''It's going to be okay, you'll see me soon enough,'' Gigi promised, as he leaned in and kissed Iker's forehead and cheeks intently.  
He stared into the brown eyes, trying hard to see past the tears, and saw Iker's tiny smile as he nodded.

''Okay, I have to go now. I'm sorry,'' he sniffed, as he pulled Gigi into another hug, not willing to release him just yet. ''Go beat those Germans for me okay?'' Iker whispered with a sly grin.

''I will,'' Gigi vowed as he released Iker from his grip. He couldn't look at him, for if he did, he wouldn't be able to withhold the tears that were pressing behind his eyes.

Iker took his hand and pressed a kiss to it. ''Ti amo Gigi,''

''Te quiero Iker,'' Gigi choked out, feeling another tear roll down his cheek.

Iker swallowed hard and stepped back from Gigi. He turned around and walked toward Sergio.

When they walked out of the hotel lobby, he looked back at Gigi three times.

Gigi fell into a chair and let his face fall into his hands as he cried until he had no more tears to shed.

Dero found him five minutes later and took him up to his room where he held him until he had finally calmed down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that probably didn't go as most of you had hoped. Although at least they talked about their feelings and everything is out in the open now. 
> 
> But it won't be an easy road. Next chapter will be after the match against Germany. That one will be hard to write seeing how I hate to see all my Italians so upset. But I have decided that this story will get a happy ending, so I guess that's good. 
> 
> These two love each other so much, but so many things keep getting in the way. 
> 
> Oh btw, did you guys like jealous Sergio? I wanted to write him because I like it when he's being a cockblock. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's still reading this and likes it. Your kudos and notes keep me going <3


	5. I'm faded.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gigi processes the loss against Germany on his own. Or does he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm actually including Gigi's kids in this story. His sons from his first marriage. Louis and David. In my storyline he is only married once and divorced now. 
> 
> So his current wife and son don't exist here.  
> Also I read online that Gigi had suffered from depressions for a couple years since 2004, so I put that in my story as well. It kind of fits seeing how a broken heart can lead to a serious depression.

_Bordeaux, July 2._

 

 

 

 

''Don't be sad dad, you _almost_ had it,'' his son Louis said, as he attempted to soothe his distraught father on FaceTime.

Gigi had to bite his lip to prevent himself from screaming in agony.  
A heavy tear rolled down his cheek as he swallowed thickly to force the countless others away.

Louis was only ten years old and had clearly no idea as to how his words ate his father's heart out of its chest.

It wasn't his fault that his father was such a _mediocre_ penalty keeper. And as it turned out, a coward as well. After the game he had been holed up in his hotel room for hours, locking the door, not willing to see any of his teammates.

He knew that his teammates _needed_ him, but he couldn't do it. Not today. He needed some solitude.

He had received multiple worried texts from Chiello, Dero, Bonnie and Barza, pleading him to go and see them, but he had ignored them stubbornly. And now his son was opening his fresh wound, callously spraying salt into them, with his sweet, innocent words, leaving him a bloody, heaping mess of emotions.

Little did Louis know that his words were the absolute _worst_ thing you could ever say to a goalkeeper.

Yes he had _almost_ saved Hector's penalty, which only made it ten times worse that he didn't.

If he had only stretched his hand out even a little bit further, he would have been the hero of his country, instead of the loser who had _'nearly'_ had it and thus eliminating them from the tournament.

He would have preferred it if he had jumped into the other corner than being so close and letting it slip through his fingers.

The word nearly didn't buy you shit.

They were still kicked out of the tournament because of _his_ shortcomings. Literally. And what killed him was that they had done so well these past few weeks.

They had beaten the top dog, Belgium, sent Spain out of the tournament against all the odds, and played with an ease and bravery that Gigi had seldom seen in his team before.

He had honestly thought that they stood a real chance of winning this thing. And now, in the blink of an eye, it was all over.

Certainly, he hadn't been the only one who had failed at the penalties, Zaza had screwed his up tremendously, not to mention Pelle, but still, being the captain meant taking full responsibility for failing at the penalties.

He should have kept his goal clean, should have reached a tiny bit further and they would have been through.

Something like this would haunt and torment him for years.

Would ensure that he would have nightmares about this for many nights until he died. If he lost a game with Juve it hurt him at his core, but letting his entire country down was a feeling that he would never be able to describe.

It always felt ten times worse. He could nearly see the faces of all those little kids who were sitting on their grandparents laps, hoping and praying that Italy would go through.

He could imagine their tears as if they were his own when they got eliminated.

Gigi had always _hated_ penalties, hell all goalies did. Losing on penalties was the worst feeling that existed. They were always in a disadvantage during a game, but with penalties that was even worse.

They barely stood a chance. He had always hated feeling that hopeless.

He hated seeing the smug faces of the opposite players who had scored against him, as if it was really such an accomplishment to score a bloody penalty. Saving one was ten times harder than shooting them. 

After they had lost, he had openly cried his eyes out for all the world to see.

He saw his emotional teammates wandering around him and he comforted as many of them as he could, but honestly, he wasn't truly there. Not really.  

Zaza was blaming himself over and over in the dressing room, yelling to everyone around him that it had been his fault.

Gigi didn't have the heart to comfort him, for his own seemed to be missing from his chest, ripped out mercilessly by a young man called Jonas Hector.

Dero was comforting Zaza with his typical brutish love, patting him on the shoulders, assuring him that nobody blamed him, that it wasn't his fault and that it would go better the next time. Gigi wondered if Dero believed any of his own words.

Oh how badly Gigi wanted to be able to blame Zaza or Pelle for their ridiculous penalties, he truly wished that he could take it out on them.

But the only one who he was absolutely _furious_ with was the man staring back at him in the mirror.

He couldn't find it in his heart to blame the youngsters for failing.

He knew how much pressure they were under. But he had known better, after all, this wasn't his first rodeo. Gigi swallowed thickly and stared at the expectant face of his son, feeling the warm brown eyes radiating with love. It helped a little.

To know that his son still loved him unconditionally.

''Yes thank you, now where is your brother?'' Gigi asked, feeling the sudden urge to speak to his younger son, David, who was always able to cheer him up after a loss.  
Louis frowned and gazed around in the living room. ''Hold on dad, I think he's upstairs,''

His eldest son disappeared from the camera and came back in a few minutes with his youngest. ''Aw please don't cry papa,'' David soothed, his brown eyes doleful and compassionate.

They were both wearing their Azzurri shirts and shorts and had painted the Italian flag on their cheeks.

When David said those sweet, innocent words Gigi felt his defenses falter and the dam burst open, releasing the inevitable tears he had been holding ever since he had arrived in his hotel room.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to hold his sons in his arms right now. 

His sons were staring helplessly at him, unsure what to say that would help their father calm down.

''Dad, have you called uncle Chiello yet?'' Louis voice quipped.

Gigi shook his weary head. ''No, I've been wanting some time alone from them,''

''You should really call him, he's probably crazy worried about you. You really _shouldn't_ be alone right now,'' Louis said sternly. Gigi wiped his eyes and smiled at his sons. ''I love you two, you know that don't you?''

David grinned cheeky and rolled his eyes at his father. ''Yes papa, we know that, and we love you too,''  
''And we're still proud of you, no matter what,'' Louis added.

A warm feeling stirred in Gigi's chest at his sons comforting words. ''Grazie, now go to bed, it's very late,''

''Only if you call uncle Chiello,'' Louis negotiated, a coy look on his face.

He really did take after his uncle Chiello, they seemed to share the same sly brainpan.

''You've been spending way too much time with your uncle Chiello, he has obviously infected you with his sharp mind. I should let uncle Barza come over more often, to make you a little less manipulative and a little more sweet,'' Gigi winked at his eldest.

Louis snorted sarcastic in a similar way that Dero always used to do whenever he disagreed with him. ''Pff I'm nice enough papa, besides, uncle Barza is _boring,_ ''

David tugged on Louis hair and chided him. ''Don't say that you jerk! I like uncle Barza. He always picks me up and he gives me candy,''

''Hey no hair pulling David! You two are obviously tired, turn the phone off and go to bed you little rug rats. Now!'' Gigi ordered.

His sons stared at one another for a moment, clearly hesitating whether they should protest but luckily didn't and nodded compliant. ''Good night papa,'' David quipped as he waved at his father and disappeared from the screen.

''Good night!'' Gigi shouted after him, unsure whether he had heard him or not. ''And you,'' he said as he turned to his eldest son, ''behave yourself all right?''

Louis briefly rolled his eyes at him but conceded an obedient glare. ''Fine, take care papa. See you soon,''

''Yes you will, I have you to myself for two weeks during the holidays,'' Gigi reminded him.  
''Can we bake cookies then?''

Gigi smiled briefly. ''Yes we can bake cookies,''  
''Okay, see you soon dad,''

''Good night Louis,'' Gigi shut the screen off and tugged his phone back under his pillow.

He lowered his head to the soft fabric and shut his eyes, the exhaustion of the day washing over him in waves.

Much to his annoyance, his phone started ringing again, a minute later.

God why couldn't those bastards leave him be for a moment? He fished the phone out from under the pillow and stared at the number on the screen. It was Andrea.

Now that, he hadn't expected. His fingers lingered over the screen for a few seconds, hesitant whether he wanted to talk to him or not, but he unlocked the screen and answered the call.

Perhaps he just needed to speak to someone who wasn't involved with the team any longer. Maybe he had just missed talking to Andrea.

''Andrea?'' he croaked into the phone, hearing how hoarse and emotional he was sounding. God he _hated_ himself.

''Ciao Gigi, fuck you sound _awful_. Please tell me that you aren't alone right now,''

''Well I hate to disappoint you but I am alone, I couldn't bear it to be around them. I felt the guilt eating me alive,''

He heard Andrea sigh on the other side of the line. ''Please don't do that. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing. Penalties are never fair to goalies and you know it,''

''Yes well, nothing in this fucking world is ever fair is it? Us losing to penalties fits right into that world view if you ask me. It wasn't fair but somehow it happened.  
Because I failed them. I should have stretched further with Hector's penalty. I could have had that, I actually felt the ball brushing past my fingers.  
We all know I should have saved that. You know me well enough to know that I can't just let that go as if it meant nothing. I failed. _Me_. That will always be _my_ burden to bear,''

Andrea inhaled deep, indicating that he was praying for patience. ''Yes you failed, but you weren't alone in that. Zaza failed horribly, Pelle failed, fuck even Bonnie failed.  
It happens okay. The Germans also screwed it up, it was just bad luck.  
Nobody could have seen this coming. It was honestly one of the worst penalty shoot outs I've ever seen. So many players failed their penalties, it was pretty embarrassing to watch. It's a lottery, you know this,''

Gigi snorted annoyed. ''Yes I know all this thank you. Lousy one-liners about it doesn't really change anything for me. On days like today I really wish I hadn't become a goalkeeper. I should have become a striker or a midfielder and none of this would have happened,''

''If you had than perhaps you would have missed one today. Players who miss suffer equally as the goalie who fails to make a save,''

''Do they now?'' Gigi argued. They had fought about this for years and still never agreed on who had it worse.

Gigi would always advocate for his own side and Andrea would do the same for his. Today though, Gigi wasn't in the mood to have the same fight over and over again.

''Let's not do this today huh,'' Andrea decided, reading his mind as usual.  
''Good idea,''

''Now grow up and call Chiello or someone else to keep you company. You know the rules, if you're alone after a game like today you're at risk of relapsing into another depression,''

Gigi sighed miserably. He had suffered from multiple depressions for years now, most of them due to his unhappiness over not being able to be with Iker, but others because he cared too much, felt too much responsibility to his team.

A loss like today could easily trigger another serious depression, which was why Andrea was so insistent on him having company.

It was an old rule they had co-founded after his severe depression in 2004.

Chiello, Bonnie, Andrea and Barza had sent him to the best psychologist there was and he had received some light anti depressants to go along with his therapy.  
They helped him and he had slowly recovered.

Losing such important games like today were a dangerous trigger for him to fall right back into that rabbit hole. Which was why his phone had been going off every five seconds. His friends knew that this was a delicate time for him and they just wanted to help him out.

But Gigi couldn't see their faces any longer. Their voices had faded away from his heart.

He was all alone in the dark.

The darkness had swallowed him whole. Devoured him alive.

He was so tired that he felt like he could sleep for a year if they let him.

''Gigi? Answer me please,'' Andrea's clear voice called out through the dark void like a lighthouse guiding him through the mist.

''Sorry, my mind was preoccupied. I'm here, I just don't feel like talking right now,''

''I know that, no one knows you better than I do. But you cannot be alone. Call whoever you feel like seeing and let them stay with you. Don't be alone in the dark if you don't have to be,''

''I want to see Iker Andrea, he's the only one who I really need right now. He's the only one who understands what I'm feeling right now,'' Gigi admitted. By god, how he _missed_ Iker.

He wished that the Spanish goalie had never left him.

Fucking Sergio and his stupid lies, he thought. Iker had texted him later on that the bus wasn't departing earlier as Sergio had said when he came to the hotel to snatch Iker away from him.

Sergio had blatantly lied to them, something that shouldn't have surprised Gigi and yet somehow it had.

When Iker told him about that Gigi had shaken in furious jealousy. It was a good thing their bus had left already when he found out, otherwise he would have happily marched over there to tell Sergio how he truly felt about him.

Not leaving anything out, not being the polite man that he always used to be.

Now that Iker had reciprocated his feelings, it had made Gigi even more possessive over him.

His blood actually boiled with the idea of Sergio sitting beside Iker in the bus, his lingering hands roaming freely around on Iker's legs, moving upward to his thighs.

The very thought made him sick to his stomach. Made his head spin with seething rage.

''Well you can also call Sirigu can't you? He's a goalie too, he might understand it as well,'' Andrea suggested.

Gigi shook his head. ''No, I can't talk to him, not about this. I like him a lot but he's not my friend. We don't speak the same language and we don't always see eye to eye. I need Iker, I want him to be here to-''

''Well, you can't always get what you want,'' Andrea said sharply. Gigi heard the jealous undertone in the thickness of his voice. Despite the fact that they would never be a couple, Andrea still felt something for Gigi.

The thought was soothing to him, to know that he was still loved, even if he didn't feel the same way. Not like that.  
People still cared about him. He wasn't alone.

''I'm sorry Andrea,'' he choked out.  
''For what?''

''That it couldn't work out between us,''

He heard Andrea chuckle softly. ''Don't be, hell I'm not. You will always hold a special place in my heart though, that will never change, despite the fact that we can never be together,''

''I feel the same, you will always be special to me. And I do miss having you around in my daily life, you brought so much light to the club, so much joy and excitement. I just miss having that energy around to cheer me up, I guess,''

''I know, I miss you guys as well. The States are fun, don't get me wrong but it's not the same. I do miss being home. The food here is bloody _awful_. And don't even get me started on the wine. Thankfully I import most of it from my own vineyard for the brought they serve here is indescribably horrific,'' Andrea stated arrogantly.

Gigi smiled. ''God you sound like a snotty brat,''

''Well if the shoe fits,'' Andrea retorted, grinning amused.

''Hey Andrea,''  
''Hmm?''

''Please don't ever mention our sex life to Dero again,''

He heard Andrea cough on the other end of the line, indicating that he had probably spilled his drink all over his chin in the process. ''Oh yeah, sorry about that. In my defense, I was really drunk when I told him,''

''That's a lousy excuse and you know it,''  
''Yes, but an excuse nonetheless, anyway I gotta go, my kids are calling me. Say hi to Dero for me if you see him okay? Tell him I miss him,''

''He misses you too, he's been practically _unbearable_ these past few weeks. He's been so fucking mischievous lately. He even stole a cart from room service, did he tell you about that?'' Gigi asked.

''Yes he did, but that's pretty basic stuff isn't it? He can think of much better shit to piss you guys off. I mean where have the days gone where he would hide under the bed for hours just to scare the shit out of Rino?''

''Don't you go fill his head with more of your crap _Pirla_ , you hear me!''

''Fine, fine, be boring like that. Say hi to everyone for me all right?''

''Okay see you Andrea,''  
''Ciao Gigi,''

Gigi put the phone away with a smirk and noticed that for the first time since they had lost, his chest felt a little lighter. As if it was no longer filled with heavy rocks and oceans of guilt.

Talking to Andrea had done him a lot of good.

There was a knock on his door and Gigi exhaled deep, trying to find the nerve to stand up and cross the short distance to his door.  
''Who is it?'' he called out as he rose from the bed.

''It's me, open the fucking door,'' Barza's voice demanded.  
''I don't really want to talk to anyone right now Barza, no offense though,''

''I know that, but you have to let me in, please. I need you. This isn't just about you, other people are suffering too,'' the defender's voice broke and Gigi heard the muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door.

He unlocked the door and slid it open. On the floor, sitting with his face buried on his knees, was Barza.

Crying his eyes out.

He smelled like cheap cigarettes and whiskey. He was still wearing his blue training clothes. Not willing to take them off for the last time.

Gigi knew why this was so particularly hard on him; it had been Barza's last tournament for Italy.

His last match for his country. To end it in such a manner was horrible.  
It was an absolute _nightmare_.

He had hoped to end Barza's international career with a European cup, not a loss in the quarter finals after penalties.

If he had only done his job a little bit better, they would be celebrating right now. Not mourning.

He crouched down at Barza's legs and placed his hands on his knees. ''Hey look at me buddy,'' he said softly, as his fingers stroked the kneecaps. Barza gazed expectantly at him with glassy, teary eyes. ''I'm so sorry for letting you down,'' Gigi sighed.

Barza frowned confused. ''You didn't let me down. We let you down at Ozil's goal and you know it. We should have protected you but we failed.  
I'm not mad at you for not stopping that penalty, none of us are. Only you are beating yourself up about it.  
I'm merely sad for ending my international career like this, I wish it didn't have to end like this. Tell me that you will go on,'' he urged, as he clasped onto Gigi's shirt and forced him to look him in the eyes.

''Barza, I-''

''Promise me! You can't retire now, the men need you. Tell me that you will keep fighting, for them. For _me_...please,''

Gigi exasperated deep. ''I don't want to go on. I'm tired of fighting,''

''I know, but the team needs you. You keep them in line, keep them together. They can't lose you yet, they aren't ready to be without you. You are the one they rely on more than anyone else here.  
Your approval drives them, makes them play better, urges them to do great things. And look how great they did this year. _You_ did that, the press will give Conte all the credit, but we all know the truth: you unite us. You lead us. They aren't ready to be on their own just yet. You have to go on, for them. For Italy,''

Gigi felt completely backed into a corner by Barza's pleading voice and his compelling arguments.

Perhaps he was right. Goalies could still play until they were forty or in rare cases even older so why shouldn't he stay?

Would it be worth the pain if they got eliminated again? But Barza had a point, he knew that the team needed him, in more ways than one. He needed to do his job. 

''I have to go do something, will you come with me?'' Gigi asked as he extended a hand to Barza and hauled him to his feet.

''Uh okay,''  
Gigi grabbed his keycard and shut the hotel door behind him. ''Where are we going?'' Barza quipped.

''You'll see,'' Gigi halted three doors from his and knocked twice. A blond figure opened the door. _Ciro_.

''Hey, can I come in?'' Gigi asked, as another dark haired figure stepped besides Ciro to greet him. Lorenzo was wearing his glasses and looked like a royal mess.

''It's not really a good time for them right now,'' Ciro told him hoarsely, as he crossed his arms together.

His defiance triggered a sensitive snare in Gigi's heart, making him a little more unfriendly than he usually would be. ''Let me in, right now,'' he hissed between his teeth.

''It's all right Ciro,'' a voice from behind them said and Ciro reluctantly stepped aside, pulling Lorenzo to the left so that Gigi and Barza could pass them.

The illumined light of two phones were the only thing that lit up the dark hotel room.

''We turned the sound off, the fucking things kept on ringing like crazy,'' Lorenzo explained. ''Smart move,'' Barza said as they walked to the bed.

Two figures were sitting beside one another with their arms and legs crossed in front of them, face down in shame. Gigi halted at the edge of the bed and sat down across from them, placing a hand on either side of his teammates legs. ''I'm sorry I didn't come sooner guys, I truly am,''

Zaza sighed and looked up from his legs, as he gave him a tight smile. ''It's all right, you had your own shit to deal with,''

''Yes we're not mad at you for disappearing after we got here,'' Pelle added.

Gigi moved his hands to their cheeks and cradled them gentle. ''Well you _should_ be, god knows that I'm mad at myself for being so selfish that I put my own misery before yours. I shouldn't have let you two go through this alone. I should have been here, but-''

''You don't have to explain it,'' Pelle interjected, ''we _get_ it okay. And for what it's worth, I think that it's good that you put your own needs before the teams for once.  
You always put us before yourself, so I say that it was about time that you learned to be selfish,''

Gigi shook his head furiously, tears pricking in his eyes. ''No it's not right. I'm the captain here. It's my _job_ to put your needs before mine. All of your needs. I should have had your back, not let you deal with this inconsolable guilt alone,''

''But we weren't alone, everyone was here for us,'' Zaza said, nodding at Ciro and Lorenzo.  
''Except for me,'' Gigi protested.

''So? You had your own sorrow, at least you won't be laughed at by the entire world tomorrow morning when the papers come out,'' Zaza groaned, ''that penalty will haunt me to my grave. Everyone will laugh at me for fucking it up so bad,''

Gigi cupped his face and pressed his forehead against Zaza's. ''Hey listen to me: fuck them. They don't know what it feels like to stand there, to take that responsibility. How can they? It takes courage to take a penalty. They will never understand what we go through.  
Let them make their stupid jokes.  
They don't matter. You have to stand above petty shit like that.  
If you care about people's opinions you will always be their prisoner. Yes you two missed today, but the next time you will score and take revenge on all those people who laughed at you. I promise you that all right?''

Zaza and Pelle smiled sadly and nodded like a pair of good little schoolboys. ''Gigi?'' Pelle asked.  
''What is it?''

''You aren't really retiring yet are you?''

Gigi inhaled deep as he searched his heart for the answer.

He still wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do. But somehow his mouth opened and the reply rolled off his tongue before he could stop himself. ''No, I'm not retiring yet. As long as the team wants me to stay, I'll stay, because I need you as much as you need me,''

Zaza and Pelle lunged themselves into his arms and held him so tight that Gigi could literally feel it in his bones, coursing through his system.

His heart warmed due to their affection and he held them for a long time, safely snug into his arms in a three way hug.

When he left their room a few moments later and went back into his own room with Barza he felt a little lighter. Barza got a text and wished Gigi a good night, leaving him alone again.

There was another knock on the door and this time, Gigi recognized who it was. Three loud bangs told him that Dero was at the door.  
''Go away Dero! I want to be left alone!''

''You'll want to open the door dude, believe me on this one,'' Dero shouted back, sounding dead serious.

Gigi wasn't sure what it was about Dero's voice that compelled him to obey him, but his feet moved to the door within seconds, as if they had a will of their own.

When he opened it, he saw a familiar dark haired figure standing at Dero's side.

His jaw dropped. ''Iker...'' he exclaimed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh nooo another cliffhanger. God I'm evil. 
> 
> But I have no time to write more unfortunately. I was suppose to go on vacations this saturday but my vacation fell through, so that's a real bummer. Plus side is that I have more time to continue this story. 
> 
> Including Barza a little more into this was something I felt like I had to do. His sorrow really hit me hard after the game, and I feel so bad that he had to end his national career with this game. 
> 
> I hope this wasn't too sad, it was kinda hard to write and I'm feeling a tad insecure about this. I'm not sure if I got all the feelings right. Thanks to everyone who still reads this and leaves me notes and kudos. It truly means the world to me. <3


	6. The monsters are running wild inside of me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iker reflects on his life choices and his relationship with Gigi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this isn't very good, but I felt like it was important to show Iker's side to this story before we continue with the next chapter and evolve their relationship even further. 
> 
> Most people will probably be startled by the way that I'm describing Iker, but I do feel that he's flawed in many ways. I also don't believe that his relationship with Sara is anything more than business and appearances. I know Iker loves his sons, but I do think that he's not really a kid person. 
> 
> Besides, Xavi has said in many interviews that Iker has a darker side. I do feel that he can be very selfish and uncaring to other people's feelings. I also think he can be a bit mean. So I'm exploring his darker side a bit further in this story. Much of it is based on my own commitment issues and me being terrified of domestics. So I'm projecting a bit but I'm also basing it on how I think Iker can really be like. 
> 
> I want to point out that I don't think it's a crime to be selfish in nature. In the end we should treasure the relationship we have with ourselves above all other relationships. It's the most important one. So I know that this chapter will probably not go over well with die hard Iker fans, but this doesn't mean that I don't love him. I've watched Iker's career since the start and I feel like I know him very well. I'm an Iker fan, but everyone has a shadow, a darker side and I do love exploring them. 
> 
> So I'm very curious to know what you think of my projection of Iker.

_Bordeaux, July 2._

 

 

 

Loneliness was a fickle bitch.

Iker had often wondered how someone like him, who was constantly surrounded by close friends and family, could feel so many different layers of loneliness in his heart.

Though he would never say that out loud, god no, he wouldn't dare complain about it. He knew precisely how many _truly_ lonely people there were in the world, old people who never got any visitors and spend all day on their own, wallowing in their solitude, people who didn't have anyone to hold them, to love them.

Iker had all those aspects in his life: he had two loving sons, a warm and caring family and tons of true friends. Besides that, he was richer than most people would ever be in their entire lives. He made more money per year than most people would in a lifetimes. So he really ought to shut the fuck up and count his blessings.

And yet he had always felt as if he was alone in the world for some strange reason. As if nobody understood who he truly was. For Iker wore a mask so believable that even he started to wonder if it hadn't imprinted on his face permanently.

As if the mask wasn't a part of who he truly was now, instead of a way to hide his true feelings. The lie he had told himself had become so _believable_ , so vivid that Iker now considered it to be the truth.

Somewhere along the way, he wasn't exactly sure where or when, he had lost himself, his _true_ self.

For Iker was a highly selfish man who valued self preservation and his own happiness above all other things. He did whatever he liked, whenever he liked it.

As a captain he made it his duty to pose as if he were selfless, and that act worked well for him. He could put the content of his teammates above his own feelings, but deep in his heart he _hated_ being captain.

Hated how he had to keep a lid on his true nature. So outside of his captain duties he did whatever he wanted. He slept around with his numerous teammates, he spend nights in gay bars and secretly visited numerous strip clubs.

He could manipulate people like no other. Everything was all good an well as long as he came out on top in the end. Whenever he saw an opportunity he would take it, without any hesitation or regret. He made sure that the odds were _always_ in his favor. After all, live together, die alone right?

In the end everyone would perish into the next world alone regardless, so the idea of a relationship was unnecessary. He had always been like that, until the day he had met Sara.

Her influence, combined with his captaincy had changed him dramatically. Perhaps it happened due to his family pushing him to settle down with a nice girl and provide them with grandchildren, maybe it was just the pressure that the press put on him, he wasn't certain.

But Sara had been comfortable to be with, presentable and likable to people around him. A well respected woman in Spain who he could easily introduce to his parents as he _pretended_ to be into her.

He could still see the relief and content on his mother's face when he first brought her home. As if she couldn't be more relieved and ecstatic that her beloved son had finally grown up and settled down.

The truth was that he very idea of domesticity terrified Iker. It always had and always would. The idea to have a family, to be around the same person for the rest of your life all seemed so useless and old fashioned to Iker.

It was all just a house of cards in his eyes, lying in wait to collapse in your face, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart. It hadn't been easy for him to sleep with her, seeing how he was mostly into men and didn't care much for women, but somehow he had made it work.

Sara knew about his sexuality but never complained about it, after all, she was merely using Iker's status to climb the ladder for her own career. They became close friends and had an open relationship where they both dated other people. After a few years however, Sara started nagging him for kids. Argued that it would look bad to the outside world if they remained childless.

Iker had never exactly been a kid friendly person but she had been good to him all those years so he decided to give in.

Something that the old Iker would have never done, but before he knew it, little Martin was born. And god knew how much Iker _loved_ him. He had never loved anyone like he loved his beautiful, sweet son. He loved him more than life itself.

But as Martin grew older he realized that fatherhood just wasn't really cut out for him.

He loved his child but he wasn't made for baby talk. Plus, the sleepless night annoyed him and the endless crying quickly got on his nerves. He wasn't father material. Perhaps he would be better at it when Martin grew older, he hoped.

Everyone always said that it was much easier and fun when the kids got old enough that you could talk to them, when they were more independent.

Hell even Sergio was ten times better with Martin than he would ever be. So Iker bought the house next-door and moved out. It gave him some of his much needed freedom back, not to mention full nights with _blissful_ sleep, and he was still only a door away so he was around his son all the time.

But he had a place to go if it all became too much for him. When it became so intense that he felt suffocated. Not that Sara spend much time with Martin either, she worked really long days and Martin was mostly taken care of by a nanny called Rosa.

Iker often used to talk to Xavi about how fatherhood had changed him, seeing how Xavi was the only one who understood how he felt, considering how Xavi wasn't a children's person either, but that all changed when he suddenly got a daughter.

It was an accident, but when Xavi got his baby girl he had changed tremendously.  
He couldn't stop talking about her, he send Iker pictures about her nonstop and he had suddenly turned into a proud and slightly obnoxious dad. Though Iker was glad that he was so happy with his new family, he silently resented Xavi for it.

Xavi was on the opposite side of the fence now. He no longer understood Iker when it came to children, which created some friction between them.

It became so bad that Xavi was ignoring his calls for weeks now, something he had never done before. Iker was alone again. He couldn't talk to anyone else about this taboo like topic. And thus returned the loneliness. It hung over him like a dark cloud.

Feeling alone wasn't an uncommon feeling when you were a goalkeeper. After all, you spend most time on the pitch on your own, silently observing your teammates moves as you wait for the opposite team to attack you.

When your team scores a goal nobody runs to you, they all celebrate by themselves. It's only when the game shifts to your goal that you interact with all your teammates and not just your defenders.

You shout at them, position them at your posts, you lead them away from the goal but then when you have, the silence returns. Nobody chants your name when your team scores a goal, you will never achieve truly important records. You will _never_ win a Balon d'Or. It's a lonely life.

His good friend Pepe Reina once said that becoming a goalie isn't something that you choose, it's who you are born to be. It chooses you.  
The job comes with the highest responsibility there is. You love it and you hate it all the same. Letting a goal in can ruin your weekend, fuck you up beyond recognition.

Devastate you with guilt. You will fall many times, but you will always get back up and rise like a phoenix from the ashes.

It's not only a hard job, it's also a _dangerous_ one. Literally.   
Petr Cech had nearly died after he had smacked his head against the post once, terrifying goalies around the world when they learned of that horrible news.

Iker could still remember seeing him lying on the grass after his accident. He could still feel his heart hammering his throat as he prayed that Petr would be all right.  
Gigi had called him right after it had happened, asking him if he was watching.

Petr was one of the goalies that was very well loved and highly respected in their small community. Seeing him so mangled up that he had nearly died created a nagging doubt in Iker's mind whether he should continue to play. Gigi however convinced him to keep going, after all someone with Iker's talent wasn't allowed to quit just because he was afraid. He needed to keep going. And so Iker soldiered on.

Gigi had always been a special man to Iker, in more ways than one.

When they had first met each other Iker had felt a bit starstruck by the famous Italian, as if he was a little boy asking him for an autograph. He seemed so tall, a giant in more ways than one.

But Gigi was so immensely _kind_ to him, smiled broadly, shook his hand and kissed his cheeks. Despite the fact that they didn't even speak the same language, they understood each other.

Gigi knew what he meant with a singular expression and visa versa.

That had never happened to Iker before, meeting someone who appeared to look right into his soul. Normally he would have been unsettled or intimidated by someone like that, but Gigi didn't scare him. He had a good soul and Iker knew instinctively that he would never judge him for who he really was.

In fact, Iker trusted him with all his heart, from the very beginning of their relationship. Somehow when Gigi was around he never felt lonely. Not one bit.  
He felt as if he was good enough just the way that he was. Around Gigi he didn't have to pretend to be someone else for the sake of his career.

To be tougher than he actually was, or more social. Gigi cared about him, about the real Iker.  
He knew the man behind the mask because Iker had felt his wall crumbling to pieces before Gigi's eyes from the first time he met him.

Gigi saw him. Saw into him. And he loved him despite of all his countless imperfections and selfishness.

Losing to Italy had been hard on Iker, despite the fact that he hadn't even been in the goal. A part of him wished he hadn't told the media that he wasn't going to retire until Gigi did. He really just wanted to end his international career, knowing fully well that he would probably never be in the goal for La Roja again.

De Gea was the next generation, making him old and slightly over the hill. But he had given his word, he wouldn't stop until Gigi would. And yes Iker had many flaws but he took pride in the fact that he _never_ broke his word.

When Gigi had taken him out to lunch, Iker had decided to finally cross the line that they had been circling around for years and admit to how he truly felt about the Italian.

Gigi had reacted stunned, as Iker had predicted, but had been excited about the prospect of finally being with Iker after all those long years of waiting.

Just when they had wanted to go upstairs for a much needed snuggle, Sergio had showed up, presenting himself to be the proper cock-block once again.

He had done that for years now, whenever Iker was hitting on someone Sergio would intervene, using whatever tools he had at his disposal to distract Iker from them.  
Iker could still remember how long he had kept that up when David Beckham was hitting on him. Sergio had managed to prevent them from sleeping together for nearly three months.

Sergio's feelings toward Iker were hard on him, for he loved Sergio with all his heart. But he would never feel anything but intense friendship for the cheerful man from Camas. It had complicated their friendship, caused many arguments over the years and led to endless nights were Iker was charged with soothing a crying Sergio whenever he had drank too much due to his misery.

Sergio would ask him over and over why Iker couldn't love him, asking him what was wrong with him that Iker wasn't attracted to him.

Honestly, Iker had never understood why he wasn't able to reciprocate Sergio's feelings. As Gigi had said, it didn't make sense. Iker was into men, Sergio was beautiful beyond recognition and he had a body to die for. Only a fool would willingly reject Sergio Ramos.

Apparently Iker was an idiot. That one time when Sergio had lost his temper and kissed him had caused a huge fight between them. Iker had shoved Sergio off immediately, feeling slightly revolted by the lips to his. It felt as if he was kissing his brother and the feeling of Sergio's tongue pressing against his made him nauseous to his stomach.

Sergio had cried out that he hated him, that he wished he had never met him and even worse comments that Iker would rather forget.

Afterward, Sergio hadn't spoken to him, apart from the absolute necessary team conversations, for over two months. Whenever Iker called him he ignored him, when Iker tried to talk to him after training, Sergio just walked away, not even meeting his eyes.

It killed Iker, to see Sergio so angry at him. To know how distraught and upset his best friend was due to his selfishness.

But when he talked about it with Pepe, the Portuguese disagreed that Iker had been selfish when he refused to sleep with Sergio. Pepe said that it was in Sergio's best interest to keep him at distance, for he would only break his heart if he crossed that final line.

It wasn't selfish what Iker had done, it had been selfless.  
He had taken care of Sergio's feelings, instead of taken advantage of him just to get a good lay.

That had been selfish, to use Sergio and then discard him as if he had been nothing to him. Pepe had advocated that rejecting Sergio was a sign of mercy, not self interest.

As the years passed, Sergio came to terms with their current relationship, in his own way. He would always love Iker whether he wanted to or not, but he had accepted the fact that Iker would never feel the same way.

Or so Iker thought. Him cock-blocking his afternoon with Gigi told him a whole other story. When they landed in Madrid after the ruined Euros, the team went their separate way. Iker icily said goodbye to Sergio and went back home where he spend some lazy afternoons with his newborn son Lucas and little Martin.

The day before Italy played Germany he received a call from De Rossi, asking him if he could fly out to Bordeaux so that he could be there for Gigi after the game.

Iker gladly accepted and flew back to France where he watched Gigi and his team lose the quarter finals to the Germans, as he had feared. And to make it worse: losing on penalties.

From the stands he could see Gigi crying openly afterward and he swallowed thickly to prevent his own tears from bubbling over in his eyes. He had to stay strong for Gigi, he needed him now.

Gigi had been there for him when he lost, now he had to return the favor.

After the game, he made his way over to the hotel and met up with De Rossi, who was waiting for him in the lobby. They took the elevator up to the eleventh floor and halted at Gigi's door.

''Ready?'' De Rossi asked, looking surprisingly considerate for a man with his rough demeanor.  
Iker inhaled deep as he attempted to calm his racing heart. Was he ready for this? He wasn't quite sure, but one thing he did know was that he owed Gigi.

Gigi had been there for him after each loss he had suffered over the past fifteen years. He had even played cards with him all night a few days ago. Iker could do this.  
He just needed to remember how to breath and to not fall apart at the sight of seeing Gigi so upset. He could be strong.

He braced himself slowly and stared at the strong Roman. ''I'm ready,'' he vowed. And he was ready. Ready to see the one man who could mend his lonely heart with a simple smile. The man who loved him, without limits or reservations.

The man who he could truly be himself around, without repercussions following in pursuit. This was the man who had loved him, despite of everything he had done.

Iker could only hope that he was worthy of a man who's heart was as large and open as Gigi's. A man who had found a cure to his lonely soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TBC......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think guys. Sorry to leave you hanging with yet another cliffhanger. But happier times are really coming up in the next chapters.


	7. In the end.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Iker's visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for disappearing on all of you for so long.  
> I really am. But life got in the way. There will be a short epilogue after this chapter. Don't know when I'll make that.

_Bordeaux_.

 

 

 

 

Gigi had often thought, in the lonely hours of the night where he felt haunted by visions of Iker's face, that Iker was the most beautiful man in the entire world.

That sounded extremely childish of course and was not something he would ever admit to out loud, seeing how that sounded like a twelve year old girl in love, but to Gigi, Iker was the most perfect man he'd ever seen.

His eyes were absolutely _gorgeous_ , a different shade and texture to them with each emotion he had. At night they were darker, more intense somehow, while in the morning they were the shade of ripe hazelnuts bathing in the sun.

When he was angry, they were lit with thunderous sparks, making it hard not to tremble in fear. 

His face was lined with chiseled features, as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. His cheeks were decorated with lines that revealed themselves whenever he laughed.

Iker didn't smile much, seeing how he was usually a very serious man, but when he did, it was an indescribable sight.

There were a few tiny freckles displayed on the bridge of his nose and at the small of his cheeks that Gigi had always wanted to trail his fingers over.

Gigi thought that Iker looked his most beautiful when he had a small, dark beard, somehow that made him even more mature and immensely attractive.

Even when Iker cried Gigi still thought he was utterly beautiful.

Gigi was surrounded by gorgeous men every day when he played for Juve. All the girls loved Marchisio, Bonnie wasn't bad to look at and Barza had a rugged handsomeness about him, that was completed by his sweet and gentle temper.

Morata had been young but cute and even Zaza had a certain appeal. But Gigi had never had eyes for any of them, despite the fact that he had known early on that he was into men.

Andrea though... now that had been something else. Andrea was one of the most seductive men Gigi had ever met.

He had a certain boyish charm about him, seeing how he was always pulling childish stunts with Dero and yet there was a certain maturity underlying his exterior that none of his other teammates had.

Andrea's true charm resided in his eyes, for they revealed precisely as much as they were guarding.

There was a certain mystery in them and whenever Gigi stared into the brown gems, he found himself tumbling further into the maze that was called Andrea Pirlo.  
So many detours, so many paths to choose and none of them _ever_ led to the heart of the maze.

Gigi had often wondered if anyone truly knew who the real Andrea was, if even Andrea himself knew.

He had quickly given up and accepted the fact that he would probably never know and that the many faces of Andrea was something he should cherish. At least he wasn't a boring, predictable man.

Gigi knew him very well, or as well as anyone could.

That probably had to do with the fact that they were such close friends before they became lovers.

They just got along really well, despite their differences. Going from good friends to casual bed partners had seemed like the only logical step somehow. Andrea had simply fallen into his arms one night after a game and kissed him brazenly without permission.

Not that Gigi was complaining seeing how he had always thought that Andrea was on of the most _alluring_ men he had ever met. They had always had a certain pull between them, nearly a magnetic one.

Them ending up in each other's bed had seemed only a matter of time. In fact, it had been so predictable and inevitable that their teammates had started a pool to bet on when they would finally get on with it.

Started by Chiello, who had made a lot of money when he won the pool, seeing how he knew Gigi the best and had betted on him taking nine months to fall into temptation.

The sex had been amazing between them and yet, when they were laying in Andrea's bed afterward, sated and fulfilled, Gigi somehow always felt his thoughts traveling back to Iker.

He even felt a hint of shame for what he had just done, even though that was utterly ridiculous seeing how he wasn't even involved with Iker.

He talked about it with Chiello sometimes, who told him to stop being ridiculous.

He wasn't even dating Iker so the guilt he felt was highly _irrational_ and wouldn't do him any good. Gigi loved Chiello with all his heart but at times like that he wanted to slap him for being so insensitive and highly rational.

Chiello simply didn't _understand_ him, therefore he talked about it with Barza, who was kind as always, listened intently but refused to give him advice on the matter. He felt that Gigi had to make his own decisions and he didn't want to persuade him into anything.

That one time when Gigi had shouted Iker's name instead of Andrea's in bed he felt obligated to offer an explanation to his lover. He had never felt more mortified in his entire life.

Gigi had felt certain that Andrea would explode with fury, but instead he calmly took his hand and forced him to talk about his feelings for Iker.

And just like that, they went back to being best friends as if Gigi hadn't just humiliated Andrea during his orgasm.

He had never loved Andrea more than he had done in that moment. The fact that he was able to keep a level head, to not lose his cool and to be able to be his friend all at once amazed Gigi.

Over time, it had felt less good to sleep with Andrea so Gigi had called it quits. Not that Andrea was bothered by it, _nothing_ ever seemed to bother him. The only demand he made was that they would still hang out a lot and remained close friends.

Gigi accepted that immediately, seeing how he couldn't imagine his daily life without Andrea's presence.

Andrea had to be the most easygoing person that walked the earth.

He had merely nodded content and offered him a glass of red wine. There was no awkwardness afterward, no signs of jealousy or resentment from Andrea that he had ended their arrangement.

Andrea was fine with it apparently.

He danced through life without a care in the world. Gigi truly envied that about him, that someone was capable of being so carefree and able to do whatever he wanted without any consequences lingering above his head.

And when he left for the States, Gigi felt his heart crumble in his chest. He had _missed_ Andrea's personality every day since he had been gone.

Now that Gigi had lost to Germany, he found himself longing back to Andrea's carefree personality even more than he usually did.

Dero had pounded on his door and Gigi had reluctantly slid to the door to open it, not really in the mood to see anyone. When he opened it however, it revealed the only person he wanted to see that night: Iker.

Iker was here, in Bordeaux. He was right here.

Christ, he was fucking gorgeous. So beautiful that it nearly hurt Gigi's heart.

He was wearing his favorite pair of dark jeans, blue Adidas sneakers and a gray shirt. ''Iker,'' Gigi exclaimed as he felt his jaw falter.

''You're welcome,'' Dero grinned as he nudged Iker inelegantly into Gigi's suffocating embrace.

When Gigi looked at the hallway again, Dero was already long gone before he could thank him. That sly little fox.

Gigi felt Iker's body collide against his and the slender arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight.

Gigi reached over Iker's shoulder and pulled the hotel room door shut behind them.

He wrapped his arms around Iker's trembling body as tight as he could without smothering him and let his tears flow freely.

God how he had missed everything about Iker.

His musky, manly smell, his voice, his alluring eyes, his comforting touch.

It was _too_ much, after everything he had to endure that night, it was overwhelming to stand there, holding the man that he loved into his arms.

He had lost so much that night and yet now that Iker was here, that didn't seem to hurt as intensely any longer.

''How did you even get here?'' Gigi mumbled as he buried his face deep into Iker's warm neck.

Iker's fingers trailed gently over his back. ''De Rossi called me yesterday, asking me if I wanted to go to the game. He got me a ticket,''

Gigi felt his insides turn to ice. ''You saw me fail from the stands?''

Iker shook his head furiously. ''No I saw you fighting like a lion for your country. You _didn't_ fail anyone,''

''I did though,''

Iker exhaled deep, pulled himself out of the embrace and placed two impossibly cold hands onto Gigi's cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet. His voice was stern and captain like. ''Listen to me very closely: you didn't do anything wrong. Your defenders failed you when Mesut scored, you know it and I know it. The whole world knows it. Sometimes they let us down. It's _nobody's_ fucking fault. If I had a nickel for every time Sergio let me down I would be richer than Cristiano Ronaldo right now. Defenders fuck up, it's what they do,''

''I failed you though,'' Gigi exasperated, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

Iker creased an confused eyebrow. ''What the hell are you talking about?''

Gigi steadied himself. He had to tell him. But how could he? ''You have to understand something, Barza was _begging_ me, and then then Zaza and Pelle were basically sobbing in my arms as they pleaded me to stay. So I gave in. Because they still need me. I'm not retiring yet,''

Iker sighed deep. His fingers trailed over Gigi's clavicle and made their way up to his lips, silencing him. ''Shhh you don't have to apologize for that. I understand completely why they need you and it's good that you decided to stick around,''

''But this means that you can't retire yet either, doesn't that bother you?''

''Not so much. My own teammates basically asked me the same as yours but I told them that it was up to you. I made a vow to not retire until you would so now I know that my journey will go onward as well. Whether I like it or not. If that means that I'll have to settle for being third goalie in two years than so be it.  
My teammates need me for other reasons now. To hold them together.  
I won't be the one who guards the post any longer, but they have De Gea for that. I'll settle for being their captain. It's all right, really, I'm not mad and it doesn't bother me,'' Iker vowed, as he stood on his toes to press a kiss to Gigi's forehead.

''You're too good for me,'' Gigi said, meaning every word.

Iker shook his head. ''I'm not though, in fact I wish that I was brave like you,''

''What are you talking about?''

''Come sit down with me for a second okay,'' Iker suggested and he led them to Gigi's bed, sitting them down as he clasped Gigi's hands into his own.

Iker inhaled deep before he started to speak. ''Look, I'm a selfish man. I usually take whatever I want without any regards of the consequences. You know better than anyone how I feel towards you. But I can't be with you openly until we've both retired from our careers. Once we do, I want us to be together.  
But right now I just can't do it, not even in secret. Because I don't want you to be my dirty little secret. I've done that with too many of my teammates in the past. Sneaking around, hoping to evade the press as we danced in private clubs. I did that because those guys didn't mean _anything_ to me.  
That made me careless.  
You are worth too much to me to treat you like you are some slutty affair. You deserve to be much more than that. And you will be someday. But I can't sneak around with you like I used to do when I was young.  
You are too precious to me to lower yourself to something so degrading as being my secret lover. When we'll be together, I want to be able to shout it from the rooftops, not giving a fuck about what anyone will think about it.  
I want to walk hand in hand across the pavement. I want to be able to kiss you in public. We can't do that yet,''

Gigi felt a defeated knot form in his stomach. Iker's words had hurt him more than he could say. He knew deep down that Iker was right, but still, it stung.

''But why can't we be together yet? Why should we have to wait? We could be the worlds first gay couple in our industry.  
The world would respect us for it. Isn't it time for our ''community'' to reveal itself proudly during our careers instead of waiting like cowards until we retire because we're so afraid of what people will think of us when we come out?'' Gigi had to ask it, even if the answer wouldn't please him.

Iker's eyes softened a bit and he kissed Gigi's cheek. ''You're right. About _everything_ you just said. And I would agree to a come out if only I was more like you. If only I was brave like you are. But I'm not. I'm a coward who cares too much about his appearance. Who cares too much about what people who I'll never even meet, will think about me. Why do you think I'm with Sara?  
I never loved her, but she was a suitable match. She's a great friend and we have two kids together but whenever I slept with her I had to dim the lights and pretend she was a man to get the job done. And yes I know how humiliating that sounds. I just had a newborn son. I can't just walk out on my family now, whether I want to or not.  
It would look bad with the people,''

''I understand that Iker, really I do. I can wait until you're ready. I already waited over fifteen years, I think I'll survive it a little longer. But I do hope we have a future together because I can't imagine ever being happy without you,''

Iker smiled shyly at him, cheeks flushing. He leaned in and kissed Gigi's lips briefly.

It was their first kiss and somehow it was significant for the prospect of their relationship that it happened like this.

It felt sad, stolen, almost like a whisper in the wind. ''I feel the same. You won't have to worry about a future without me. The second we've retired, I'm moving in with you. You can count on that. Are you disappointed?''

Gigi shrugged. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. Was he truly disappointed by Iker's words?

Certainly, he had hoped that they could be together from now on, but a part of him had known that Iker wouldn't budge. Iker might have known him very well but that was a two way street. Gigi knew how important public appearances were for Iker.

Also, he would never encourage him to walk out on his children. Only cowards abandoned their family. 

Still, he didn't ever want to lie to Iker, so he answered truthfully. ''A little bit, I guess. But I had expected you to say all of this. And I understand your decision. But can you promise me one thing?''

Iker looked up. ''Hm?''  
''That you'll sleep in my arms tonight,''

Iker exhaled relieved and grinned. ''I promise, but I still feel like we shouldn't have sex. It would only make it harder for me to leave you in the morning. Just cuddles all right?''

Gigi nodded assuring and wrapped his arm around Iker's waist, pulling the both of them back on the covers. ''Deal,''

Iker nestled his head on top of Gigi's chest and held onto him tightly, entwining their legs, their fingers and their arms.

His breathing quickly became erratic and Gigi laid there for a long time, just listening intently to Iker's breaths. It calmed him, to know that Iker was right here with him.  
To know that he wasn't a mirage.

To feel his warm, pliant body pressed against his own. Iker's fingertips made a trail across his chest, lingering upward to Gigi's neck and face, making him quiver all over. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time.

As if all of his senses suddenly went into overdrive at the touches of the man he'd longed so intensely for. Not even Andrea's touch could ever match up to Iker's.  
Suddenly it wasn't enough, years and years of lonely nights caught up with Gigi and a desire he'd never felt before surged through his system.

Iker apparently felt the same, for he leaned in closer, stared intently into Gigi's blue eyes for a moment before he finally closed the distance and placed their lips together into a heated, desperate kiss that Gigi would remember until the day he died.

Their lips moved together as if they'd been doing this for years. Iker's touches were devouring, sweet and consuming and Gigi felt his head finally growing silent after his horrible evening.

The events seemed to fade from his mind, leaving only Iker's touches behind, soft and soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold winter day.

The memories of the game evaporated, his teammates faces vanished.

The empty feeling had been replaced by a mountain of love that nestled in Gigi's heart.

When Iker deepened the kiss, parting his lips to grant Gigi's tongue access, his heart nearly gave out on him. He heard himself moan softly as he pulled Iker even closer to him, needing more and more touches.

And Iker happily gave it to him. That night he gave him every bit of comfort and love that Gigi needed.

They kept their word; they didn't have sex, but they did sleep in each other's arms. Iker had curled up behind him, folding his arm around Gigi's waist and nuzzling his head in the nook of his neck.

Gigi found it a bit odd at first, to be the little spoon, seeing how he was taller than Iker, but after a while he understood why Iker did it.  
Iker knew that Gigi needed to feel sheltered, to feel protected and safe.

Being the little spoon apparently offered that to a person.

Gigi had never been spooned before, but he appreciated the gesture. And it worked. He had never felt safer in his entire life.

In the morning when Gigi woke up, Iker was there.

_Gigi smiled. He was happy._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised you guys a happy ending didn't I? There it is.  
> I hope you guys liked it and that it was worth the wait. 
> 
> Let me know <3


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